


The Forsaken Path

by Fawn_Eyed_Girl, nartista



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angela Carter, Animal Transformation, Arranged Marriage, Blood and Violence, Consensual Sex, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, First Time, Minor Character Death, Red Riding Hood Elements, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawn_Eyed_Girl/pseuds/Fawn_Eyed_Girl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nartista/pseuds/nartista
Summary: For decades, the wolves and the humans had lived by an uneasy truce. The wolves did not eat humans, and the humans did not hunt on wolf lands. However, the harsh winter was changing things, and wolves were slowly infiltrating the human lands.One day, while on the way to her grandmother's hut, Kagome has a chance encounter with a handsome huntsman on the road. She is immediately infatuated with him, but he may not be who he appears to be.**WINNER: Best Non-Canon Pairing atFeudal Connection1Q 2021 Inuyasha Fandom Awards**
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Kouga, Kikyou/Suikotsu (InuYasha)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 104
Collections: The Angela Carter - Inuyasha Fanworks Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Koga, Kagome, or any of the characters from the anime and/or manga. 
> 
> An homage to Angela Carter's "In the Company of Wolves"
> 
> Featuring commissioned artwork by [nartista](https://nartista-digital.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and doing well.
> 
> Welcome to my contribution for the amazing [Angela Carter--Inuyasha Fanworks Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AC_Inuyasha)! This story is an adaption of Carter's probably most well-known story, "In the Company of Wolves." It's one of my favorite stories, and a wonderful interpretation of Little Red Riding Hood in its own right.
> 
> I usually write InuKag pairings, but this story just exudes KogKag energy to me, and I was very excited to have the opportunity to write them for this story. I hope that you enjoy!
> 
> Special thanks to NeutronStarChild and [gribedli](https://gribed-li.tumblr.com/) for your very careful reading of this story!
> 
> And [The Forsaken Path playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TYPGLozwfHvvml24Tr9aJ?si=GJew-SSwSHComUp-NZ-j9g) can be found here! Definitely recommended for appropriate "wolfy" vibes 😉

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagome has a chance encounter on the way to her grandmother's with a handsome huntsman.

[ ](https://nartista-digital.tumblr.com/post/635142723580608512/a-chance-encounter-kagome-and-koga-meet-for-the)

Commissioned Artwork by [nartista](https://nartista-digital.tumblr.com/)

* * *

The winter had been cold, and dark, and harsh. Very few animals frequented the countryside and the forests, making game sparse and even more valuable. It was only December, and already people’s stores of dried meats and root vegetables were beginning to run low. There were fears in the village that people might begin to go hungry. 

Despite all that, though, there was a consensus among the villagers that hunting beyond the perimeters of their properties was dangerous and dubious, and so it was to be avoided as much as possible. Because the village shared a border with the lands of the wolf demon tribe, and wolves were known to be vicious, conniving, and equally desperate when it came to food. For if the humans were starving, so too were the wolves; they dined on many of the same delicacies.

For decades, the wolves and the humans had lived by an uneasy truce. The wolves did not eat humans, and the humans did not hunt on wolf lands. Should the occasion arise where a human was caught there, it was also an unspoken rule that the person was on their own; they could escape with their lives, if they were lucky, but more often than not, they became food for the wolf who caught them. Because while wolves didn’t eat humans, that did not mean that they _couldn’t_. It didn’t mean that they disliked the taste of humans (they didn’t; they found humans a little tough, to be honest, but not as awful as squirrel, and they were infinitely easier to catch), nor did it mean that they would not be willing to share their caught human with other members of the tribe. But still, the rumor was that the young wolf prince was fair, and just, and that he would abide by the unspoken rules of the wood, unless someone crossed him.

And then, as both the wolves and the humans knew, all bets were off, and very few would survive the wrath of the wolf prince.

* * *

Higurashi Kagome and Ibashi Eri leaned against the wall of the meeting house, the largest building in the village other than the shrine. They sighed and watched the celebrations taking place around them quietly. It was their friend Yuka’s wedding day, and while Yuka and her new husband Ginta were happy and celebrating, as were their friends and family, Kagome and Eri were nervous. Ginta was a traveling man who had arrived in their village no more than two months before, and had taken an immediate liking to Yuka. And no one had shown Yuka much attention before. This in itself wasn’t a bad thing, but it meant that Yuka was inexperienced in the ways of love, and both Kagome and Eri worried that Yuka was getting in over her head. After all, they knew nothing of Moriyama Ginta, other than what he had told them, and who was to say that was even the truth?

“Besides,” Kagome whispered to Eri, “remember Ayumi, and what happened to her?”

Eri nodded. “Yes. And who’s to say that wouldn’t happen to Yuka, too?”

Eri and Kagome frowned. Ayumi was their first friend to get married; she married young, to another traveler, and quickly, like Yuka was doing now. Ayumi’s husband disappeared on their wedding night, and the entire village had turned out in the morning to search for her missing spouse. But he was nowhere to be found; all they found of him were the hakama he had been wearing when he stepped out of the house to relieve himself. Ayumi assumed the worst, mourned her loss, and six months later, married a local boy who was perfectly willing to piss inside or outside (or whenever or wherever he needed to). Ayumi bore him one child, and then another, and they lived together as a happy family, the first husband long forgotten. 

Until one night, three years after he left.

Ayumi’s husband was on a hunting trip, and Ayumi and the children were alone in their hut. She had just finished making dinner when there was a rustling at the bamboo mat door. Ayumi looked up, and the mat moved in the doorway, revealing her first husband, gone missing all those years ago. Ayumi had been astonished, but let him in. He demanded food, and as she served him he looked around the hut.

“Things look different around here, Ayumi,” he growled. He saw the children, who were now huddled together in the corner. “They ain’t mine.”

“No, they’re not,” she retorted, finding her strength and her voice when he mentioned her children. “You’ve been gone three years, and I had to move on.”

That had induced a growl in her suddenly-alive husband. “Did ya now, Ayumi?” he grunted. “Did ya really have to move on?” He finished his meal, and rose. “If I were myself,” he continued, “I would tear you apart, limb from limb, in punishment.”

Ayumi hissed and stepped backwards. “You’ll not touch me or my children,” she growled right back. Ayumi looked around the room frantically; she saw a large stick her husband used as a spear, and grabbed it, ready to defend her children if need be.

“Oh,” her husband said, “you’ve made a mistake, Ayumi.” And he let out a long, low, feral growl; he ripped his clothes from his body, and dropped to all fours. Ayumi had watched, horrified, as her husband sprouted hair all along his spine; it radiated outward, along his ribcage, and then over the rest of his back and his chest. The hair rippled down his legs, his arms, and to his hands and feet, which slowly transformed to paws. His face morphed too; his handsome visage becoming twisted and dark; his green eyes taking on a feral glow; his nose and jaw lengthening to a hideous snout and maw. 

He...he was a _wolf_.

Ayumi had screamed, and her wolf/husband leapt towards her. Ayumi swung the spear wildly, her children screaming in the background, the wolf snarling and howling as it stretched a paw out to attack her. Ayumi batted him back with the spear, but he was too strong, and his naked, grotesque, salivating form approached her…

The door burst open, and her current husband barrelled through the door. He saw Ayumi; he saw his children; he saw the wolf. He whipped out his scythe, and with one clean blow, he took the wolf’s head off; it landed in the bucket that held the water that Ayumi had planned to use to bathe the children.

She and her current husband approached the bucket; when they looked down, they saw the head of a wolf. But then Ayumi blinked, and she saw the wolf head begin to morph back into a human one—the human head of her first husband. And Ayumi had cried, and her husband struck her, then took the children away, while the body of Ayumi’s first husband—the wolf who had tainted her—lay bleeding out on the floor of their hut, Ayumi curled up close by, still sobbing.

As Kagome and Eri recalled that story, they both shivered, but for different reasons. They knew that Ayumi’s story was rare, but they also knew that it was a real possibility that wolves could infiltrate the village. They knew that wolves could have human bodies; they knew that wolves talked and acted just like humans, most of the time. It was only when they were angry, or aroused, or sad, that they took on their wolfish forms, and their howls at the moon expressed their deepest, darkest feelings.

Eri shivered because she feared her husband turning into a wolf and eating her. Kagome shivered because she felt for the poor, lost ookami, whose wife moved on, and didn’t bother to look for him for long. Ayumi was her friend, but Kagome had always felt uneasy about the situation. If it had been Kagome, she would have waited forever.

“Well, don’t you two look sour for a wedding?” came a happy, teasing voice. Eri and Kagome looked up and there was their friend, Yuka, resplendent in her wedding kimono, her hair carefully done, with winter plants decorating her elaborate styling.

“Con—congratulations, Yuka,” Kagome choked out. Eri nodded.

“That’s all you have to say to your best friend?” Yuka teased.

Kagome stepped forward and took her friend’s hands in hers. “Congratulations, Yuka,” tried Kagome again, her best attempt at sounding warm and happy working well. “We wish you and Ginta many, many years of happiness.”

Yuka beamed. “Thank you, Kagome-chan,” she said, shaking Kagome’s hands enthusiastically. 

“Yes, Yuka,” stammered Eri, “Con—congratulations.”

Yuka looked from Kagome to Eri. “I’m really glad you both are here,” she added, her face suddenly serious. “There hasn’t been much reason to celebrate around here lately, and that was part of the reason I really wanted to have a wedding. I wanted people to remember that we can still be happy, that we can still celebrate things.”

“And we _can_ ,” emphasized Kagome. “We can definitely celebrate you, and Ginta-san, and the new life you are beginning together.” Eri nodded faintly in agreement.

Yuka’s face lit up all over again; Kagome breathed an inward sigh of relief. “ _Thank you_ , Kagome-chan, Eri-chan,” Yuka gushed. “We’ll still be friends, won’t we? Just because I’m now an oyome-san doesn’t mean that we can’t still be friends.”

Eri smiled at Yuka’s pleading face. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “We will always be friends, Yuka-chan.”

Yuka dropped Kagome’s hands and then clasped Eri’s warmly. She let them go, then waved at them both. “Next time I see you, I will know all the secrets of being a woman,” she giggled, “and I will be happy to share them with you both!” Before Kagome or Eri could gasp in surprise, Yuka was gone, flitting her way back through the crowd. The girls saw her sidle up to her new husband, who was talking with Yuka’s parents. He slipped an arm around his new bride and kissed the top of her head affectionately— _too_ affectionately for a newly married couple at their wedding, thought Kagome suspiciously.

 _Where was this Ginta person from_?

The wedding party came to a gradual stop; the sake stopped flowing; the guests grew restless and began to make their way back to their homes. Kagome’s parents found her and Eri, still leaning against the wall, talking quietly.

“I’m surprised that you were standing in the corner all night, Kagome,” chastised her mother, Kikyo, lightly. “There were plenty of young men here who would have loved to talk to you.”

Kagome scoffed. “I don’t really want to talk to any young men, Okaa-san,” she retorted. “I’m happy living at home with you and Otou-san.” 

Her mother frowned. “Someday, Kagome, you will meet a young man and change your mind,” she replied. “Or, someday, your father and I will make you a good match, and hopefully you will choose to turn it into a love match.”

“Oh, let’s not talk about that yet, Wife.” Kagome’s father, Suikotsu, was a tall, imposing man, and didn’t like the idea of any boy getting close to his darling daughter.

“Two of her friends are now married, anata,” responded Kikyo. “She is already of age. We need to have her off and married soon, before she is too old.”

“Tch,” said Kagome. “I’m twenty. There’s plenty of time.”

“Not as much time as you think,” her mother said thoughtfully. She took her daughter’s arm; Kagome reached for Eri, who held fast to her friend’s hand. “Come,” Kikyo said with a smile, “we will take Eri home, and then we’ll walk home ourselves. But we don’t want to take too long.” Her smile faded. “You never know who might be hiding in the woods.”

* * *

The next morning, screams and shouts from the village square drew Kagome and her mother outside. 

It was Yuka’s mother; she was going from hut to hut, asking people if they had seen her Yuka. “Have you seen Yuka?” she was begging. “Do you know what happened to her? To her husband?”

Kagome and her mother joined a throng of people in the square; Eri and her mother were there, too.

“Kagome-chan,” said Eri, coming to stand beside her friend.

Kagome reached out and squeezed Eri’s hand. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Eri frowned. “It seems that Yuka and Ginta went missing in the night. Her mother went to check and see how the wedding night went, and found that they were missing, and that their futon had blood on it. Yuka’s wedding kimono was there, and so were all of her clothes, save for one of her old kimonos she wore for housework.” Eri paused. “The villagers are saying that Ginta killed Yuka, and took off into the night.”

“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Kagome said thoughtfully. “He was so affectionate with her at the wedding yesterday. I don’t think he would kill her.”

“He didn’t kill her,” said Kaede, the head priestess of the village, who was missing an eye that she had lost in a battle with a particularly vicious youkai, and who had come up beside the girls and was now inspecting them quizzically.

Kagome and Eri bowed. “Kaede-obaa-chan,” Kagome said, “what do you know of Yuka and Ginta?”

Kaede frowned. “I know that Yuka was not coming to training anymore, unlike her friend,” said the elderly woman irritably. “Kagome, why did you not encourage Yuka to continue with her training?”

“Because I’m not her keeper, Kaede-obaa-chan,” Kagome shot back. “It’s not my job to keep an eye on her.”

“No,” said Kaede thoughtfully. “But it is your job to be her friend.” 

“True,” replied Kagome.

“So allow me to ask you,” Kaede said firmly, “what did you notice about Yuka and Ginta?”

Now it was Kagome’s turn to frown thoughtfully. “He was...very affectionate with her,” Kagome said at last. “He was hugging her at the wedding. I thought that this was not appropriate for a newly married couple in public.”

“Ah,” said the elderly miko, pacing before Eri and Kagome, “you are correct, Kagome. Now, let me ask you this: who _would be_ affectionate with their spouse, or their mate?”

“Mate?” Eri was confused.

“Youkai call their spouses ‘mates,’” Kagome explained. Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean to say that you think Yuka’s husband was—”

“A youkai,” Kaede finished, “and yes. Yes I do. More specifically, an ookami—a wolf. They are among the more affectionate, and the more deadly, youkai that exist.”

“A wolf?” Kagome didn’t believe it.

Kaede toddled around in front of the girls, and stuck a gnarled finger right in Kagome’s face. “Mark my words, child,” Kaede hissed. “Yuka is gone, taken by her ookami husband, to the wolf den, where she will be a wolf’s bride, and suffer as a wolf’s bride, for the rest of her life. The wolves are making their move on us. You, Kagome, for whom the wolves howled the night you were born—you should know this better than anyone. You should know: they are starving, and they are feasting on us. Just you wait and see. None of us are safe anymore.” Kaede shot the girls a devastating look, then waddled back towards the shrine.

“Kagome?” Eri’s voice was hesitant, worried. “Do you—do you think Kaede-sama is right? And what she said about the night you were born—”

“It’s nonsense, Eri,” Kagome snapped. “Wolves had nothing to do with my birth.” She let out a deep sigh; Eri’s face grew pale. “And about Kaede-sama? I don’t know, Eri,” she added. “I don’t know.”

The rest of the morning, Kagome thought back to Kaede’s prediction. Could it be true? Could there be wolves walking among them, posing as humans? It seemed to be true for Ayumi, and now, for Yuka. Did the wolves want human wives? If so, why? What could a human wife provide for them? And maybe...just maybe...it did have something to do with her, after all?

While she helped her mother with the daily chores, Kagome tried to imagine what it would be like to be a wolf bride. Would it be so bad—to have the power of the wolf tribe at your feet? To be at the beck and call of a man who was as affectionate as Ginta, as inappropriate as he was in public? Kagome shivered, in spite of the heat from the fire in the center of the hut. 

Because truth be told, Kagome didn’t think being the bride of a youkai—of an ookami—would be so bad. At all.

* * *

“Kagome, are you sure that you have to go see your grandmother today?” Her mother was worried. Kagome totally understood why.

Since Yuka had disappeared, the leaders of the village had been extra protective of their villagers, especially the young women. Kagome and Eri were no longer allowed to leave the village proper; all they could do was visit each other’s huts, and do the most basic of chores that allowed them to stay inside: sewing, embroidery, drying herbs, cooking, cleaning, etc. Kagome had her miko training, and she often babysat for some of the children in the village, but other than that, her days were spent going from hut to hut, and spending time at the temple. And even though it was December, and it was cold, Kagome still yearned to breathe the crisp, fresh air of winter. She loved to feel the icy wind penetrate her lungs, making them burn, but also making her feel alive. She loved to feel warm and snuggly in her red shawl that protected her during the harsh winter weather. But most of all, she loved to hear the crunch of the dried leaves and the snow under her feet as she walked.

Because even though it was the coldest, and bleakest, time of the year, Kagome secretly _loved_ the winter, and loved what came with it.

It had taken her several days to convince her mother to allow her to go to her grandmother’s. Her father was one of the more protective men in the village; he barely let her mother out of the house, and Kagome was only allowed to go to her spiritual training and off to babysit because he knew exactly where she would be, at all times. If he were around, there’s no chance in all the hells that he would allow her to go.

But this was her mother, and her mother could be worn down: with cajoling, with completing chores, and with lots of love and affection.

And finally, about five days after Yuka’s disappearance, Kagome was able to convince her mother to allow her to go.

Kikyo packed her daughter some rice, some vegetables, some salted fish, some mochi, and a flagon of sake. Kikyo’s mother, Tsubaki, lived deep in the woods, and rarely was able to make it into the village to get supplies. Whenever one of them went to visit her, they always brought her plenty of food. Kagome’s basket was therefore heavy, but her heart was light. She was leaving! She was going to her grandmother’s! _Finally_!

Kikyo slipped one more thing into Kagome’s basket: a gleaming knife. “Only use this if you are in danger, Kagome dear,” her mother said. “Remember not to stray from the path, and remember not to talk to strangers.”

Kagome smiled and bowed. “I will remember, okaa-san,” she promised.

“And be home before dark,” her mother added. “You don’t want to be out in the woods after the sun goes down. You know that things lurk in the woods at night.”

Kagome nodded. She absolutely knew. But unlike her mother, she wasn’t afraid.

It was mid-morning when Kagome started out for her grandmother’s house. It was some distance away, and would be at least an hour and a half walk. Kagome should have felt lonely, but instead, she passed the time entertaining herself by inspecting the woods, looking for different types of birds and animals. But the forest was eerily quiet; she heard a few birds squawking overhead, despite the desolate time of year, and she thought she heard some forest creatures scuttling about beyond the path, but again, she couldn’t be sure.

So far as she knew, it was just her, and the path, and the towering pine trees, shutting out the sunshine. It was kind of how Kagome liked it.

A snap of a twig caused her senses to flare and her reiki to spark up slightly. She whipped her head around, inspecting the woods and the path up ahead. A figure stepped out from behind a tree several meters in front of her.

It was a man; a tall, perhaps handsome, man. Kagome’s eyes narrowed, and she rested her hand on the lid of her basket, ready to grab for her knife at a moment’s notice.

As the man came fully into view, Kagome found herself relaxing. He was a hunter; he carried several birds tied to a string and slung over his shoulder. He wore a simple forest green hakama and haori; Kagome could see the gleam of white below the forest green haori, indicating he wore a kosode underneath. She sighed in relief. A hunter would surely not be interested in her, a simple village girl on her way to her grandmother’s. He leaned against the tree, the birds still slung over his back, and watched her with interest. 

As she approached him, she bowed her head slightly and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, and his voice was deep, and musical, and made her stop in her tracks. Kagome turned to look at him; his eyes were a piercing blue, the color of the brightest, cloudless sky. His skin was tanned, despite the cold weather; she surmised that he must spend a lot of time outdoors. His long dark hair was tied back in a pony tail; his ears were covered by his hair. He carried no visible weapons, and she relaxed even more.

“Excuse me, miss,” he added, and she paused briefly to look him over. _Yes_ , she decided, _yes, he was quite handsome_ , and that _yes_ , she would, in fact, stop to chat.

“I can’t help but notice that you are traveling alone,” he said, and she could detect the concern in his voice. “May I ask where you are headed on such a chilly morning?”

“To my grandmother’s,” Kagome responded. “She is old, and doesn’t get out much, and my family tries to bring her food when we can.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he answered her, crossing his arms and leaning back against the tree. “But do your parents know that you’re out and about on a day like this? In the woods?”

Kagome hesitated. “My—my mother allowed me to come,” she said at last. “My father—he doesn’t know.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not safe, you know. You really should have an escort through the woods.”

Kagome scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Tch,” she replied, “I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere.”

The man’s face softened. “Are you so sure?” he asked her. His eyes cast down with what Kagome thought was embarrassment; was that a flush crossing his cheeks? “I was thinking that, perhaps, you might allow me to escort you through these woods? See you safely to your grandmother’s?”

Kagome paused. His bright blue eyes inspected her closely, and sparkled when they held her gaze. His jawline was strong, his neck thick, and his hands (oh _gods_ , his hands!) were large and powerful. She knew he was supposedly right: the woods were dangerous, but... _he_ could also be dangerous. The rumors about strangers in the forest permeated the village. The rumors about Ayumi, and Yuka...strangers were trouble. That was true. But Kagome felt an inexplicable pull to this man; surely he wouldn’t hurt her? After all, it would be nice to have company on her walk to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s. And a strong and handsome man escorting her? The creatures of the wood would undoubtedly leave them be.

“All right,” she conceded. “I would be honored to have you escort me.” She started back down the path, and the young man fell in step beside her.

“I’m Kōga,” he said to her. 

“Kagome,” Kagome offered in return. First names were fine. If that’s all he wanted to offer, that’s all she would give back.

“And you live in the village up the road, Kagome?” he asked her. Kagome was both thrilled and offended that he did not use proper language to refer to her, that he was treating her so familiarly. It was... _doing things_ to her? A little flutter in her chest, a little tremble in her step. She...maybe liked him?

“I do,” she supplied. “How about you?”

“Not far from here,” was all he would say.

“In the forest?” she asked. No one but her stubborn grandmother lived in the forest, so far as she knew.

“Just beyond,” he answered. “But not far.”

Kagome was silent, thinking carefully about what he had said. Was there a village on the other side of the forest? She really didn’t know. She knew that beyond the forest were the wolf lands, but after that? She had no idea.

Kagome chose to ignore his abstractions and concentrate on him. His profile as he loped alongside her was strong; he was taller than her by probably close to a foot, but she didn’t feel diminished in his presence. Honestly, she hadn’t known that men this tall existed! But she liked it. His arms seemed strong under his haori, given how easily they carried the birds that were slung over his shoulder. And his hands were large, and rough, and appropriate for his line of work. She couldn’t help but imagine them touching her, and she felt that flutter in her chest again, along with a little pooling of heat deep in her belly. She found herself stepping closer to him, just barely, but enough that he looked down at her in surprise.

“How far is it to your grandmother’s Kagome?” he asked her.

Kagome hummed in thought. “About an hour’s walk,” she said, “maybe a little farther.”

“That’s a long walk for a young woman,” he replied, “don’t you think?”

“I like it,” she said immediately. “It’s quiet out here in the woods. There’s no one around.”

“Except wolves, Kagome,” Kōga answered her, quite serious now. “Aren’t you afraid of wolves?”

“Not at all,” she told him. “Wolves are hungry, just like we are. They need to eat, just like we do. If we were kinder to them, perhaps they would be kinder to us.”

Kōga walked beside her for a moment, apparently deep in thought. “You’re right,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Wolves are all those things. They need food, and they need kindness, and they need... _love_ …” Kagome’s cheeks pinked up at the use of that word “...just as much as humans.”

Now it was Kagome’s turn to be silent. “Well,” she said finally, “I’m not afraid of them, and I hope they’re not afraid of me.”

Kōga barked out a laugh. It was loud, and raucous, and Kagome _loved it_. “I hardly think that any wolf could _ever_ be afraid of you,” he said, looking at her with something akin to what Kagome thought was...affection?

Kagome blushed again, and they walked for a bit in silence. Once again she found herself drawn to looking at him, and she was again finding that impressed by him. She saw a hint of a smirk cross his lips, and she smiled too. 

“Can I ask you something, Kōga-kun?” she said. He looked at her, surprised. 

“Of course, Kagome,” he replied, “you can ask me anything.”

“How did you kill those birds?” she asked, genuinely curious. “You’re not carrying a weapon. So what did you do?”

He laughed again, and once again, it completely thrilled her. He stopped, and so did she. He leaned down close to her; his scent was woodsy, and musky, and filled her senses completely.

“Kagome,” he said, and his voice had dropped into a deep, husky tone, “would you like to know my secret?”

Kagome’s gray eyes grew wide. “Se—secret?” she whispered.

He nodded sagely. “Secret,” he told her. He shifted the birds from his right hand to his left. “Stand back a bit,” he said, “you’re going to want to be a safe distance from me.”

_What...what was he going to DO?_

Kouga let out a grunt, and held out his right hand. Kagome watched, fascinated, and the wind picked up and swirled around his wrist. A steel bracelet appeared on his wrist out of the wind, and then swishing upwards were five steel chains. At the end of each one, a massive, sharp talon appeared. Kōga let out a deep breath, then smiled and looked at Kagome hesitantly, expecting her to...well, have some kind of reaction. But Kagome only looked at him with wide, shining eyes.

“That...that was amazing!” she exclaimed, and rushed back to his side. She reached out a hand to touch it, then drew back. “May I?” she asked.

Kōga sucked in a breath, but nodded. She touched her fingers to the weapon, first to the steel bracelet; when the pads of her fingers brushed up against his skin, she shivered and his chest rumbled. 

She didn’t miss that.

But, she was going to choose to ignore it. At least for the moment.

Her next step was to feel the chains. They were delicate, and intricate, and clearly well-made. All the chains led to talons—one on each finger. They were shining, even in the darkened forest light, and when Kagome started to get close to the tips, Kōga growled and jerked his hand away.

“Careful, Kagome,” he said roughly, “the Goraishi’s talons are sharp.”

“But I don’t think you would hurt me,” she said automatically, then clapped her free hand over her mouth. Kōga looked at her quizzically. 

“How...how do you know that, Kagome?” he asked.

“Because if you wanted to, you would have, by now,” she pointed out.

He laughed yet _again_. She was _not_ wrong, and he told her so, willing his weapon to disappear. 

“What’s in the basket, Kagome?” he wondered.

Kagome opened the lid. “Some sake,” she said, “and rice, and vegetables, and mochi.” She saw his face shift to something sad and desperate, and her heart twisted. “Do—do you want something to eat?” she asked him shyly. When his face lit up, she giggled and reached into the basket. “Rice is hard,” she added, “and the vegetables aren’t cooked. But how about some mochi?”

He nodded eagerly. “Would that be all right?” he asked her. 

She nodded. “My grandmother won’t miss a few,” she assured him. Kagome reached into the basket, took the linen off the top of the mochi, and took one from the bowl. She looked up at him; Kōga’s face was shining; his grin was wide, showing two rows of gleaming teeth. “I love mochi, you know,” he said. Kagome hesitated. He looked so eager, so excited…

Did she dare?

Hesitantly, she held out the mochi to him. Kōga’s bright blue eyes immediately snapped to her gray ones; she blushed, took a deep breath, and held it out as confidently as she could. His smile got even wider, and he bent down, opening his mouth to take in the sweet treat. His tongue (long, and thick—Kagome could _see_ —) wrapped itself around the mochi, and Kagome watched, fascinated and suddenly, impossibly aroused, as he used his fingers to push the mochi the rest of the way into his mouth. He closed his lips, and dragged his fingers away slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He rested those fingers ( _that had been in his mouth_!) on her shoulder, then trailed them down her arm delicately. He took a bite slowly, closed his eyes, and relished the texture of the rice paste on his tongue. Kagome felt his fingers lightly caress her arm, watched him roll the mochi around in his mouth, and found herself wishing it was _her_ he was devouring, instead.

_Stop it, Kagome! Bad girl!_

“Thank you for that,” he said, giving her a wink that made her weak in the knees and still licking his lips. “What a treat. I haven’t had mochi in ages!” He paused. “How about if I carry your basket then?” he asked her in a rough voice. “Since I’m only a harmless hunter and I swear to not hurt you.”

Kagome blushed again. “My knife is in the basket,” she teased him, “so I will be at your mercy.”

Kōga bowed frivolously, and Kagome laughed; the tension was broken. “I promise, my dear Kagome, that I will not harm you in any way,” he said, and once again, she somehow knew she could believe him.

The journey was much shorter and infinitely more enjoyable with Kōga along. He regaled Kagome with tales of his hunting adventures, ranging from waging battle with the infamous Birds of Paradise who lived on the far mountains to the East, to his tracking of a notorious half-demon, to his fight with Kykotsu of the nefarious Band of Seven. Kagome was again impressed with him; he was clearly strong, and capable, and he seemed _interested in her_. And she found herself increasingly interested in him. He was watching her always, even though he seemed to be watching the forest. He carried her basket. He walked close beside her. She _liked that_ about him.

Kagome wondered if she should ask him to come visit at the village sometime. If he could come visit _her_ at the village. Because she thought that she would like that, very much. To see his tall form stretched out against the wall of her family’s hut, to see him talking about hunting with her father, to see him complimenting her mother, to feel his hand on hers, pressing it gently as he might say good night… 

She wanted to continue to see him, after that day, and perhaps every day after this one, if she could.

“Kagome?” his voice brought her out of her reverie. “What are you thinking about?”

Kagome blushed. “Just how I won’t get to see you again after today,” she murmured.

“Why ever not?” he asked her.

“Because after today, you may not be hunting in these woods anymore,” she said. “You may not be looking for _me_ anymore.”

“Kagome.” His voice was rough, and deep, and strained. He stopped, and took both her hands into his free one, and squeezed her hands gently. “How could you think that I wouldn’t want to see you anymore?”

“Well….” She really wasn’t sure how to answer this. “You’re here, and then you’ll move on.”

“And I’ll also be back,” he told her seriously. “Don’t worry, Kagome. I promise that you’ll see me again.”

And she believed him.

“Now,” he said suddenly, once again capturing her attention, “I think that we should seal this promise.”

“How?” she asked.

He leaned forward and grinned, showing all his spectacular teeth again. Her heart stopped. What would he say?

Kōga stepped back and stretched out his one free hand. “How about a kiss, Kagome?” he suggested, a slow, but sweet, smiled crossing his face.

Kagome gasped. “A...a kiss?” she asked.

He leaned forward again; his breath was hot on her cheek. She flushed; whether it was with embarrassment or excitement, she couldn’t quite be sure. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “a kiss.”

Kagome’s eyes grew wide; she didn’t know what to say. She _should_ be offended; she _should_ slap him and run, all the way to her grandmother’s house. But she found that she was not offended, and she could not slap him. In fact, all she could do was…

“How about a wager, Kōga-kun?” she challenged him. His eyes lit up. _He likes this_ , she realized, and that excited her even more. 

“I will stay on the path to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s, and you take the woods. If you reach there first, I will give you what you ask.”

“And if you reach there first?” he asked, grinning.

She pointed at the birds. “You give me those,” she said. “My grandmother could use them.”

He laughed loudly. “It’s a deal, Kagome,” he replied. “Are you ready?”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “On the count of three,” she said. 

“One.” She moved into a running stance, as did he.

“Two.” She bent her knees slightly.

“Three!” And she took off, running down the path, not hearing Kōga following her. 

_I must be so much faster than he is_ , she chortled, and raced along, completely confident that she would win.

Kōga, though, _had not_ started running when Kagome shouted “three!” Instead, he watched her go, his deep blue eyes following her lazily as her gorgeous form retreated into the forest.

He had been stunned to see such a lovely, fresh, young woman in the woods that day. Hunting had been sparse, again, and three birds were all he had to show for a full morning of tracking. But now, meeting Kagome? The beautiful, spicy girl who was impressed with his Goraishi? Whose scent was laced with ginger and practically made him drool like he was a dog? That made the entire day worth it.

In fact, it was so worth it that he didn’t even care about winning the contest. Because he was pretty sure that he would be able to win her heart. And that, to him, meant so much more.

Kouga watched until Kagome was out of sight, then turned into the forest. He knew the way to her grandmother’s house. And he knew that he would see Kagome yet again.

* * *

Kagome made it to her grandmother’s house in record time. She had never run along the path so quickly; she had never felt as fleet of foot as she did in this moment. And it wasn’t because she didn’t want a kiss from Kōga; quite the opposite. She wanted that kiss from him, and badly. But she was going to make him work for it.

Her grandmother’s hut soon appeared at the end of the path, and Kagome slowed down, taking her time, waiting at the edge of her grandmother’s property for Kōga to show up. She just knew that he would appear, his toothy grin in place, and laugh his loud, booming laugh when he saw her there, having hardly broken a sweat. She smiled herself, knowing that she would be able to give her grandmother three gorgeous, fat pheasants, and that her grandmother would have plenty of meat now to last her for days.

 _Next time_ , Kagome thought, _next time I see him, I will challenge him to another race, with the same wager, and I will lose_.

She at long last heard Kōga stamping up the path, panting, his birds still in tow. His face shone when he saw her. “You made it,” he said, surprised. “You beat me.”

Kagome laughed. “Of course I did, slowpoke!” she chortled. “Now you owe me some birds, Kōga-kun. And no kiss today,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

Kōga smiled, made a show of being defeated, and handed over both the birds and her basket. “This is where I leave you today, Kagome,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “I hope that your grandmother enjoys what you have brought for her.”

Kagome smiled. “She will,” she replied. “And...thank you. For making my walk go more quickly, and for making it fun.” She blushed and hid her face.

A gentle touch to her chin caused her eyes to rise up. Kōga’s face was close to her own; his bright, piercing blue eyes seemed to see all the way into the depths of her soul. “It was my pleasure,” he whispered. He gave her chin a tiny squeeze. “Thanks for the mochi,” he added, “and for the race.”

Kagome leaned forward slightly, her breath hitched. “Will—will I see you again?” she asked.

Kōga smiled slowly. “I promise,” he said, “I promise you will.” He offered her a wave as he strode back into the woods, calling out, “See ya around, Kagome,” in a voice so deep it went straight into her chest, making her quiver and need to lean against a nearby tree.

* * *

Having suitably collected herself, adjusted the items in the basket, and slung the birds over her shoulder, Kagome knocked on the doorframe of Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s hut. At the faint “enter,” Kagome pushed the mat aside and entered. Her grandmother was sitting by the fire, stirring a pot of something unidentifiable.

Tsubaki-obaa-chan was old, but still very beautiful, her long gray hair billowing about her and her face largely unlined from the worry of time. Kagome knew that this was because her grandmother spent most of her time making soaps and creams and lotions that would help keep her young. And it mostly worked: Tsubaki-obaa-chan was young in appearance, but nothing could take away the years she had lived.

“Kagome child,” she said when she looked up, surprised, her beautiful face frowning, “what are you doing here at this time of year?”

Kagome patted her grandmother on the shoulder and sat beside her on the dirt floor. She graciously adjusted her kimono and shawl around her knees, and slid the basket toward her grandmother. “Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” she said, “my mother sends food, and I bring you fresh meat.” She laid the pheasants on top of the basket and grinned.

“Kagome child!” exclaimed her grandmother. “Where on earth did you get pheasant?”

Kagome grinned. “I met a hunter in the woods,” she said, “and when he heard I was coming here, he offered me the spoils of his hunt so that you would have plenty of meat to eat.” She paused; her face softened. “It was incredibly generous of him, don’t you think? Especially in such times.”

The old woman scoffed. “Please, Kagome child,” she retorted, “please tell me that you did not accept these birds thinking that this man was being kind.”

Kagome was confused. “But Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” she asked, “why else would a hunter, who needs his spoils, give them to me?”

Her grandmother sighed, and stopped her stirring long enough to gently caress Kagome’s forehead. “My child,” she said softly, “do you know nothing of the ways of men? Do you not understand why a man would give a young girl his hunt?”

Kagome knew _exactly_ why Kōga-kun had given her the birds, but she chose to hold her tongue.

Tsubaki-obaa-chan sighed again. “It is dangerous out there in the woods,” she told Kagome, “but especially for young girls. The wolves are everywhere.”

“We didn’t see any wolves, Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” protested Kagome, “just me and the huntsman. And he was very kind, and he escorted me all the way here to keep me safe.”

“The wolves _are_ everywhere, Kagome child,” her grandmother repeated. “They live amongst us; they dwell in these woods. They take human form so that they can hide from us. You, of all people, who is friends with a woman who married a wolf, should know this.”

Kagome did.

“So you should also know that you must have your wits about you on the path,” her grandmother continued. “You must know that you should keep yourself protected, at all times, and to watch out for strange men, who may be wolves in disguise.” She paused. “You can always tell if a man is an ookami by his nakedness. Wolves strip before transforming, you know.”

“He wasn’t _naked_ , Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” Kagome said heatedly, her cheeks pinking at the memory of his strong arms, his rough hands. She found that she _was_ wondering what he looked like, underneath his clothes, and she was also wondering if those were thoughts that she, a good girl, should be having at all.

She found that she didn’t really care.

“Kagome.” Her grandmother’s voice was hard, and firm. Kagome’s gray eyes whipped up to meet Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s watery indigo ones. “Like I said, Wolves strip before transforming, child. They are fully clothed most of the time. You never know who might be a wolf until they are removing their clothes.” She paused, and leaned forward, capturing Kagome’s hands in her own. “If you see a naked man in the woods, child,” she added urgently, “you must run, as if your life depended on it, because it does. It _does_.”

Kagome saw the fear, and the hatred, in her grandmother’s eyes. But all her heart and her mind were so full of the kind, generous, and handsome man she had met on the path, of his beautifully made forest green haori and hakama, of the glistening weapon he had called forth so easily, that she could not listen to anything that her grandmother said.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Tsubaki-obaa-chan right to be worried about man that Kagome met? Find out at our next update, which will be next Wednesday, Nov. 25! Thanks everyone _so much_ for reading! 💖


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagome's family makes a surprising, sudden move, and neither she nor Kōga are very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Kagome, Kōga, or any of the characters from the Inuyasha manga and/or anime.
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and well.
> 
> Welcome to the next chapter of The Forsaken Path! In this chapter, Kagome gets some news that does not make her happy, and when Kōga hears about it, he's not terribly happy either.
> 
> This chapter features masturbation, and later, blood, violence, and minor character death. Please be sure to heed the tags!

Every day that she could, Kagome found excuses to visit her grandmother’s. Her mother needed sewing done; her mother needed new lotions; her father needed meats dried; her grandmother was probably out of fresh vegetables and herbs. 

And every day that she could, Kagome walked the path to her grandmother’s, carrying her basket with the knife inside, wearing her red shawl, her eyes constantly on the lookout for forest green clothes, a long dark ponytail, and piercing blue eyes. But each time, he was nowhere to be found, and Kagome was left longing for her handsome huntsman friend.

Her grandmother, though, was both grateful and scolding each time Kagome showed up. While Kagome knew that Tsubaki-obaa-chan appreciated Kagome’s presence, and liked having her around, both for company and to help, at the same time, Tsubaki-obaa-chan was angry that Kagome was continually putting herself at risk.

“You need to stop coming here every day,” Tsubaki-obaa-chan told Kagome as they sat together doing Kikyo’s sewing. “It’s too dangerous, and I worry about you wandering in the woods alone.”

“I’m not _wandering_ anywhere alone, Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” Kagome protested. “I follow the path, and I don’t stray. I carry my knife. I’m fine.”

“You are looking for your huntsman,” her grandmother guessed. When Kagome was silent, her grandmother frowned.

“You need a good husband, Kagome child, to tame these wild urges of yours,” she concluded. “Your parents have been far too lenient with you: letting you wander around alone in the woods, carrying on with that spiritual training!”

“Spiritual training isn’t nonsense, Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” insisted Kagome. “It’s important work. I hope to be a healer someday, so that I can take care of others.”

“You won’t need to be a healer once you’re married, Kagome child,” Tsubaki-obaa-chan retorted. Kagome opened her mouth to protest, but Tsubaki-obaa-chan waved her hand at Kagome, causing her to fall silent. 

“Yes,” Tsubaki-obaa-chan said musingly, “You need to be brought under control. And the sooner, I think, the better. I must speak with your parents about this.”

“I’m not ready to be married!” Kagome exclaimed. “I like being at home, with okaa-san and otou-san. I like being here, with you.” She pouted. “Getting married changes all that.” 

_Unless it was to her handsome huntsman. Then, she could live with those changes, fairly easily_.

Her grandmother frowned. “It doesn’t have to,” she replied. “If you have a kind husband, he will still allow you to visit me, and to spend time with your parents.”

_But it’s not the same!_ Kagome wanted to shout. Instead, she settled into her sewing more deeply, a frown marring her lovely features.

Kagome’s grandmother watched her closely, a scowl on her own face, and resolved to send Kagome home with a note for Kikyo and Suikotsu.

* * *

Kagome stopped visiting her grandmother after that. She was... _disappointed_...but not surprised...that the hunter had not shown up on the path again. Kagome understood how things worked. The forest was sparse with animals, and hunters had to travel great distances to find game. He had told her his village “wasn’t far,” but truthfully, who knew how far away it was, really? And who knew if he could even get back to her? 

The realities of hunting also meant that there was a strong possibility he had been killed. There were bears, and boars, and other creatures, that frequented the forests, especially beyond the lands of the ookami tribe. And depending on where he traveled, perhaps he had run into an ookami. If that was the case, his life would surely have been forfeit, unless he was able to save himself. But with what Kagome knew about the wolves, she did not think that was possible.

Although it had been several weeks since she had seen him, the hunter was never far from her thoughts. Everywhere she went, she felt his piercing blue eyes watching her; she could see his face, his smile, gleaming at her when she denied him his kiss. She would often sigh, wondering if she had made the right choice. If she had kissed him, would he have stayed?

One afternoon, Kagome and her mother were preparing the rice for dinner when her father came home earlier than expected. Kikyo and Kagome looked up, surprised.

“Anata,” said Kikyo, “what brings you home so early?”

Suikotsu’s handsome face was smiling; his dark brown eyes twinkled with excitement. “I just came from a meeting with the headman,” he told his wife and daughter. “Kagome, you are to marry Hojo Akitoki, the headman’s oldest son, one moon from now.”

Kikyo clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful news, anata!” she cried, dropping the bowl of rice, spilling its contents all over the floor. 

Suikotsu frowned. “So wonderful you had to drop the rice, Wife?” he commented lightly, but knelt down to help her clean up. On such an auspicious day, her father could not be mad about anything, really. Because soon, they would have enough rice that they could drop some every day, and it would mean little.

Kagome, however, sat frozen over the basin of water where she was rinsing the rice. _Marriage_. She was to be _married_? And to...she reached back into her brain, trying to place the name with a face. Hojo Akitoki...the name was certainly...familiar...but she couldn’t think of who he was.

All she could think about was the huntsman. And that she wasn’t going to marry _him_.

Kagome set her own rice down and stood up. Her parents look up at her from their position on the floor. “It’s wonderful news, isn’t it, Kagome dear?” her mother said excitedly. “We’ll take you over to the dressmaker tomorrow so she can take your measurements for your wedding kimono.”

“It’s—it’s—it’s wonderful,” Kagome conceded at last, even though it wasn’t. Even though she had a deep feeling of dread settling in her stomach. Even though marriage to a man she didn’t even know was the _last_ thing she had ever wanted.

A soft knock at the side of the hut had her father shooting to his feet. “That must be the headman and his son now,” Suikotsu said. “Pick up the rest of that rice as fast as you can,” he told his wife. “Kagome and I will hold them off outside. Come, Kagome,” he added, holding out his hand to his daughter.

Kagome moved to her father’s side without a thought of her own. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and moved aside the mat in the doorframe, tugging Kagome outside after him.

“Hojo-san,” he greeted the headman, “and Akitoki-kun.” He pushed Kagome in front of him. “This is my daughter, Higurashi Kagome.”

The headman was short, with a topknot and shaved sides to his head. He wore a gray hakama and haori...what Kagome knew of him, he was a kind man, and fair; a good leader for the village.

His son, Akitoki, though...Kagome tried not to blanch when she saw him. Because now that she put the face with the name, she remembered that she _did_ know him. And while she didn’t exactly hate him, she certainly didn’t like him, either. 

Hojo Akitoki was... _fine_. He was tall, taller than his father, but not as tall as Kagome’s otou-san, and certainly not as tall as her huntsman. His sandy-colored hair was worn half-up in a topknot; the rest of his hair hung loosely about his face. It was his eyes that bothered Kagome, though. His brown eyes _seemed_ kind, but there was a bit of darkness behind them, especially when he looked at her. She...she didn’t like it. She remembered that she had met him on several occasions; each time, he rarely spoke, and for the most part, his face as a whole was also kind of...blank.

Yes, Kagome decided, _blank_ was exactly the word to describe Hojo Akitoki. 

That’s why she hadn’t even been able to remember his name. Because he left no lasting impression; he was, at best, one that one was kind to in return, and then immediately forgot. Because Hojo-kun was bland, had little to contribute to conversation, and, if she recalled correctly, was very interested in herbal remedies, creams, and the like.

She stopped. _Herbal remedies and creams_.

Had her grandmother put her parents up to this? 

Kagome bit back a growl and bowed fully, keeping her body bent perpendicular until the headman asked her to stand. When he did, she rose, then turned to face her future husband. She saw his eyes light up as he took in her form; she saw them rake over her face, her shoulders, her breasts, her waist, and her hips. She knew what he was thinking. That she was of good stock, that she had wide hips, and that she would bear him many children. That he longed to know her, to discover the deepest, darkest secrets of her body. That he longed to strip her of her kimono and run his hands over her skin, to touch and to taste her. 

Just as every other man in the village felt about a woman, Hojo Akitoki longed to breed her. Fill her with his seed, make her give him lots and lots of babies--the more, the better, and the more sons, the better. 

Kagome knew all of this, and felt sick to her stomach. She would not be Hojo Akitoki’s cow; she would not allow him to touch her or taste her. She knew this as surely as she knew that there was only one man she ever wanted to touch her in that way.

Kagome inclined her head to Hojo Akitoki, the dutiful, graceful, future oyome-san that she was.

But her mind, and her heart, would always be full of another.

* * *

Kagome lay in the hot, salty water of the spring, enjoying the feel of the heat against her skin, allowing it to take away the stress of the day. She could _not_ believe her parents; she could _not_ believe her grandmother. She was going to be _married_ , and to a Hojo! And she knew the thought should excite her. She knew she should be grateful. It wasn’t every day that a girl got engaged to the eldest son of the village headman. It wasn’t every day that a girl rose in the social ranks by several rungs, from a farmer’s daughter to the wife of the headman’s eldest son. She knew that she should feel blessed, and lucky.

Instead, she felt anything but.

Kagome sighed, and rested her head back against the rocks that surrounded the hot spring, her long hair wrapped up in a towel, providing her head and her neck with support. She was...angry. She was...devastated. She felt betrayed by everyone: by her parents, her grandmother, but most of all, by her huntsman.

He had smiled at her, and promised that he would see her again. He had _promised_ that they would meet again. And she had looked forward to that day, every day, since he had strode off into the woods, calling “See ya around, Kagome” in a way that made her heart beat out of turn and made her skin flush heatedly. She longed to hear her name drop from his lips, soft, deep, and rumbling. She longed to feel his hands on her. She longed for so many things, and they had _nothing_ to do with Hojo Akitoki.

Kagome’s fingers were traveling down the length of her body, seeking out the soft pleasure that she yearned for. She imagined his hands, rough to the touch, but surprisingly tender (she just _knew_ he would be tender with her), gently tickling the inside of her arms. She imagined the pads of his fingers running up and down her biceps, squeezing softly, feeling the muscles there. His face, close to hers, bright blue eyes piercing right through to her soul. She would gaze back at him, urging him with her eyes, with soft whispers coming from her lips, with her own fingers combing through his ponytail, bringing it loose, twisting the soft, fine strands of hair in her hands. 

Her hands found her breasts underwater, and she squeezed them gently, whispering his name, wishing it was him that was touching her, wishing that it was _him_ whispering _her_ name, wishing that it was _him_ urging _her_ on with soft kisses, nuzzles, and touches. She touched her nipples, and hissed as the feeling of tension that ripped through her body. A twist, and a pinch, and her nipples instantly pebbled up, her breathing becoming ragged as she teased and touched and caressed her own body. The huntsman’s eyes were all she could see; his musky, woodsy scent invaded her senses. One hand stayed with her breasts; the other traveled down the length of her torso, feeling the soft skin of her stomach, down to the soft hairs resting at the juncture of her thighs. 

Kagome’s breath hitched. She had never...she had never touched herself there before. She had never had any urge, and desire, to feel that part of her that she knew was reserved for her future husband alone. And yet, the thought of the huntsman, it was...well, it was _doing things_ to her insides that she couldn’t quite explain. She felt light, and heady, and drunk with desire for him. Her body was tightly strung between two poles, and if she twanged them just right, she was going to explode. She knew that the huntsman, with his strong arms and hands and his deep voice and his bright blue eyes, was all she needed to make that explosion happen just so, but he wasn’t here. And Kagome _needed_ to be plucked. She _needed_ that twang. She _needed_ that release. 

Kagome tucked her hand inside the soft hairs lining the juncture of her thighs, and gasped at the _feeling_ that followed. Her breaths grew short, and tight, as she explored gently, rubbing her fingers along her soft lips, seeing what she liked, seeing what caused that string to be pulled even more tightly. When her fingers found a tiny bud between her folds, she let out a harsh cry before she could stop herself; an electric shock went right from that spot into the pit of her stomach, and her entire form went rigid. Kagome gasped and withdrew her fingers, pulling them from the water and looking at them with wonder.

How had she…? 

Was it possible…?

Could she...could _he_ …?

Kagome dove both her hands back into the water and immediately began to work herself over, seeking out what felt good and right. She closed her eyes and imagined that her fingers were the huntsman’s fingers, and with every stroke, with every pinch, with every slip of her finger inside her opening, she imagined his rough voice in her ear, coaxing her along. Her breathing became deeper, and harsher, and darker, as she felt her insides ripping and coiling and growing tighter. She inserted one, then another, finger into her entrance, and she nearly squealed as she felt herself from the inside out. She was so soft, and pliable, yet there was a firmness and a tightness that made her twitch with anticipation. _Is that how he would touch her, too?_

Kagome’s entire body tensed, from her toes, up to her legs, up to the core of her very being, and she quaked and shook and softly cried out “Ko—Kōga” as her body released a torrent of sweet nectars that mixed with the salty water of the hot spring. 

Kagome lay, panting, her head back against the rocks, Kōga’s name still coming across her lips in soft sighs. Her fingers retreated and ran gently back up the length of her legs and her torso, her body quivering slightly at her touch, which she still imagined as _his_ touch.

It was in that moment that Kagome knew: Hojo Akitoki would never be enough for her; Hojo Akitoki would never make her feel as good as even an _imagined_ version of her hunter.

And so, in that moment, Kagome resolved: she had to find him. She had to find her hunter. _Kōga_. 

And she would start...tomorrow.

As Kagome lay in the spring, recovering from her first-ever orgasm, still dreaming of her handsome huntsman, she didn’t realize that several pairs of eyes were watching her from fairly close by. The eyes, green and brown and black, exchanged a long, furtive glance. Then, the owners of the eyes turned, and raced back into the forest.

* * *

For the first time in a while, Kagome was back on the path to her grandmother’s hut. She had avoided seeing her grandmother for some time; she had been silently seething that her grandmother had put her nose into the family business, where it was neither warranted nor expected. And, she had been nervous about seeing her huntsman again. After the hot spring, he now invaded all her thoughts; her dreams were full of his hands and his deep voice and his breath— _oh gods, his breath!_ —hot on her neck. Of his teeth, gently teasing the tender flesh of her throat. She didn’t know why, but this made her burn hotter than any other dream, and she had to _know_. Where he was, what he was doing, and _why_ he had taken so long to get back to her.

The trip had been unavoidable. Kikyo needed some kimonos and linens repaired, and she didn’t have time to do the work. Kagome jumped at the chance to get away from the hut, from the village...from Hojo Akitoki.

He was _everywhere_ , all the time, and while Kagome didn’t dislike him, per se, again...he was _fine_...but he was still an annoyance she couldn’t escape: a pesky flea that loved to latch onto her and not let go, enjoying the tender delicacies of her flesh. Even when she flicked him away, he returned, eager for more. The wedding was looming closer and closer; Kagome’s wedding kimono was ordered; the wedding was all anyone in the village could talk about. It was driving Kagome insane.

So yes, even though it was later in the day, and the sun was already settling into the western half of the sky, Kagome begged her mother to allow her to go, promising that she would be back as soon as she could. And as she set off into the woods, her knife tucked away safely in her basket, among the linens she and her grandmother needed to sew, she knew that she would be safe, and that no harm would come to her. It was...just a feeling that she had, but she felt it clearly, and strongly, and securely, so much so that as she walked, she hummed a childhood tune about goldfish and light.

A snapped twig, a flash of movement, and a whiff of musk had Kagome whirling around in her place. She pulled out her knife and stood at the ready, waiting to see who was there, and who she was going to kill.

“Whoa, Kagome,” said a deep, familiar voice, “I would have hoped that you would recognize me.”

Kagome lowered her knife and blushed. “Ko—Kōga-kun,” she breathed. He stepped into the light, out from behind a particularly large pine tree, and Kagome’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He was there, and he was just as handsome as she remembered.

Bright blue eyes the color of the sky held her stormy gray ones tight; his tanned face broke out into a wide grin at her presence. His forest green hakama and haori enabled him to blend in with the pine trees, but to Kagome, he definitely stood out.

Kagome grinned too, relieved, excited, and embarrassed to see him. She rushed forward, but immediately grew shy and stopped her movements a bit from where he stood. Kōga crossed the rest of the distance to her and took her hands in his. She shivered at the contact.

“Kagome,” he said softly, “I’m—I’m glad to see you.” 

Was it her imagination, or was...he blushing?

“I’m glad to see you too,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”

He was carrying some rabbits slung over his shoulder; her heart began to beat wildly at the thought of Kōga hunting and killing game, providing for himself, and perhaps for his village. She wished that _he_ was going to be the one providing for her.

“Are you heading to your grandmother’s?” he asked her. When she nodded, he added, “Would you like some company?” Kagome nodded again, and he fell into step beside her.

This time, there was no playful banter, no requests for kisses or wagers as to who could make it to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s house first. Instead, this time, Kōga and Kagome walked quietly, side by side; the pine trees rustled gently above them, and the forest floor was calm. It was as though the animals knew who they were, and were giving them the space they needed to be alone together.

“So, Kagome,” Kōga said carefully, “how—how have you been?”

Kagome frowned. “I—I need to tell you something,” she said quietly. His piercing blue eyes turned to her, saying nothing, allowing her the space to talk. Kagome took a deep breath. “I—I am going to be married. In two weeks’ time.”

She thought she saw his face darken momentarily, and her heart leapt wildly in her chest. Could he—did he—?

“Do you love him?” The question was harsh, and spitting. Kagome blushed.

“It—it is a good match,” she replied carefully. “My family, especially my grandmother, are all pleased.”

“But are _you_ pleased, Kagome?” he asked, his voice rough, insistent.

“It’s—it’s a good match,” she repeated. She turned her gray eyes up to his; his face was dark, impassive; he did not speak again.

They walked the rest of the way to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s in silence. Kagome felt sick to her stomach. When they reached her grandmother’s door, he handed her the rabbits. “For your grandmother,” he said. “I hope that your new husband will provide as well for you.”

“Will-will I see you again?” she whispered.

“Will you come back to your grandmother’s again before you are married?” he asked her. She nodded mutely. “Then absolutely,” he reassured her, a smirk now teasing his lips. “These woods are not safe. There are wolves out there, you know.”

Kagome smiled; the way he smirked at her, the way he promised to look out for her...it warmed her up from the inside in a way that Hojo-kun never did. Hojo was an annoyance, who she couldn’t wait to get rid of. Kōga was…

She wanted him, around her, all the time.

How to tell him this, though, when she was to be married? Her eyes searched his face; he gazed back at her, blue eyes gentle, and questioning, and cool. Acting on impulse, and on a wild desire to feel him beneath her, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He was surprisingly warm, and yielding; he froze, then slowly relaxed under the soft touch of her lips. She lingered there for a moment, rubbing against his five o’clock shadow, feeling it scrape her skin. Her kiss trailed down the length of his cheek, until she at last broke away. “Thank you, Kōga-kun,” she breathed, feeling both dazed and daring all at once.

He blinked twice, as though pulling himself together, then grinned in response, flashing his gleaming rows of teeth. “Until next time, Kagome,” he called, waving as he jogged back into the forest. “Make sure you skin those rabbits right away, too!”

“We will!” she called back, and smiled happily, sinking back against the wall of the hut in her joy.

How could she marry Hojo Akitoki now?

Kagome sighed and knocked on the wall beside the mat. A soft “come in” brought her under the mat and into her grandmother’s hut. The mat was left gently askew. Tsubaki-obaa-chan knelt at the fire once again, stirring a pot of something that smelled unfamiliar and cold.

“Ah, Kagome child,” her grandmother said, “what are you doing here so late?”

“Okaa-san sent me,” Kagome said, joining her grandmother at the fireside and kneeling. “We have so much sewing to do, and she was hoping that you might be able to help out.”

Tsubaki-obaa-chan reached out and accepted the basket from Kagome. She saw the rabbits slung over Kagome’s shoulder, and her eyes narrowed. “Kagome child,” she said evenly, “tell me. Where did you get those rabbits?”

“Oh!” Kagome slipped the rabbits off her shoulder and laid them out in front of her grandmother. “My huntsman friend. I met him in the woods today. He said that perhaps you might like them, but that we should skin them and dry the meat right away.” She smiled dreamily. “Do you think there’s enough fur here to make me something, Tsubaki-obaa-chan? Do you think that maybe Otou-san would be willing to tan the hides and then I can make myself something to stay warm in the winter?”

“You already have your shawl, child,” her grandmother pointed out. “Do you need something else?”

Kagome’s eyes drifted towards the window, and she sighed. Her grandmother watched carefully. “I—I guess I do, grandmother,” she said softly.

A resounding _smack_ reverberated throughout the small hut. Kagome’s head whipped to the side, and she clutched at her cheek in pain. Her grandmother was leaning forward, anger twisting her lovely face, her right hand raised and red from the slap. 

“You stupid, stupid girl,” she hissed. “Gallivanting in public with strange men. Accepting game from him. Walking with him unchaperoned. _What is wrong with you_? Do you want Hojo-kun to give up on your marriage before it was even started? What if he were to know that you were cavorting with strangers in the forest? If the rest of the village knew? Kagome, child, you must understand the ways of the world. You’re not a little girl anymore.” Her grandmother sighed and looked towards the door. “There are dangerous men out there in the woods, Kagome. Dangerous men, and dangerous wolves. They are often one and the same. You marrying Hojo-kun, it’s for your protection, as much as it is a good match.”

“But Tsubaki-obaa-chan, I don’t want to—”

“ _HUSH_.” Her grandmother’s voice was now deep, and loud, and terrible. Kagome shrank back from her slightly. “You would do well to remember that you are a lucky girl, who has made a lucky match. The gods are smiling on your union with Hojo-kun, granddaughter. Don’t do anything to forsake it. You will bear him many children and be a good oyome-san, I am sure.” Her grandmother paused. “So,” Tsubaki-obaa-chan added, “no more cavorting with men alone. No more coming to this house alone. Bring Hojo-kun with you next time. I’m sure that he would also prove useful around here.”

“But Tsubaki-obaa-chan,” Kagome protested, “the huntsman is a good man, I promise you! He would never hurt me. He has always been the pinnacle of politeness and protectiveness with me. I _know_ that in his presence, I am safe. Always.” She didn’t mean to say the last part, but now it was out in the open, said, and permanent. And she did not wish to take it back.

Kagome’s grandmother shook her head sadly. “You are a very stupid girl, Kagome child,” her grandmother said softly, leaning forward to stir her pot again. “Once can only hope that marriage will knock some sense into you.”

Kagome frowned and settled back on her heels. She took out the linens that needed repair and lay them on the ground; they would need to be washed after being sewn back up, anyway. She grumbled and found a needle and thread in her basket, and prepared to sew her mother’s favorite kimono. Kikyo had very few belongings and held them close to her heart. She was always worried about misplacing things, and thus allowed only a select few to touch them. Kagome was one; Tsubaki-obaa-chan was the other.

As Kagome began to work on her sewing, she didn’t notice a pair of massive, black, fluffy, ears poke their way between the doorway mat and the doorframe, nor the dark snout hovering in the air below them. The ears twitched madly as they listened to the scene unfolding, one ear trained on Kagome, the other on her grandmother. The ears...they heard everything.

And they were _not_ happy. 

* * *

“O-kaa-san!” grumbled Kagome, “Why can’t I go to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s house? I really do feel fine, and you told me that next time, I would be able to go!”

Kikyo felt her daughter’s forehead anxiously. “You’re still warm,” she said, feeling her own forehand and comparing. “I think that I will keep you home for another day or two just to be on the safe side.”

Kagome hated being stuck at home, sick. She was anxious to get back to the path to her grandmother’s and find him...to find her huntsman. To find the one she was sure that she was meant to be with. How _dare_ her mother try and keep her home? 

Kikyo smiled and tucked the blanket more tightly around her daughter. “It’s sweet of you to be so worried about your grandmother, Kagome dear,” she said. “But don’t worry; I’ve made sure that we have someone to look after your grandmother until you’re better.”

Kagome looked up at her mother, her eyes glazed over with fever and concern. “You...sent someone...to look after her?” Kagome repeated blankly.

Kikyo smoothed the hair back on her daughter’s forehead, then pressed a cool cloth to Kagome’s skin. “I did,” she replied. “And again, don’t worry; he will be able to help your grandmother out, just fine.”

* * *

Kōga had been waiting along the path for Kagome for three days. When they met last, he’d been enraged to hear that she was engaged— _how fucking dare she_ —but when he heard the hesitation in her voice when she spoke about the match, and when he heard the hope in her voice when she asked if she would see him again, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.

And then she had _kissed_ him—a glorious, lingering kiss that had made his heart stop and his stomach drop—and he knew. 

As if there had been any doubt.

But that had been nearly a week ago. Kōga had some business to attend to, and hadn’t been able to get back to see Kagome for some time. He’d rushed back as soon as he could, and he spent his days in the vicinity of the path, hunting small game to take back to his people. Because like Kagome’s people, his ookami were also struggling to survive; they were also slowly starting to go hungry. His gifts of birds and rabbits to Kagome’s grandmother were to show that he would be able to provide for her, yes, but they were also a sign that he would put her family’s needs above his own. 

He had hoped that would be enough to win her family—especially her grandmother, the old hag—over. 

But it was not, and now, Kagome was engaged to marry someone _else_ . He’d sent out his people to see what they could learn for him. Her village headman’s son. The villagers were excited. It was a good match. (That was what Kagome had said, too.) But _goddammit_ , he _—Kōga—he_ was the only one for Kagome. 

He knew this; she knew this. 

And that was all that mattered. 

If she wanted him, he would do all that he could to make her his. But first, she had to accept all of him. Would she? he wondered. He thought that yes, she would. She had walked with him; she had teased him; _she had kissed him_. And if she, in fact, did, he would, in turn, give her everything that she had ever wanted. 

_Everything_.

A crackling on the path snapped his head up to attention. He hoisted his game—several rabbits and two pheasants today, the damn birds should have flown south when they had the chance—over his shoulders, and turned his attention to the path, a wide grin starting to take over his face.

But his grin quickly shifted to a scowl when he saw that it wasn’t Kagome coming up the path; it was a young man, one who apparently had little knowledge of the forest, as he was making so much noise that the was scaring away the lesser wildlife and potentially drawing bigger wildlife to him. Kōga scoffed; even Kagome knew not to make this much noise. As the man came into view, Kōga could see him more clearly, and had to actively bite back a growl.

The man...he was carrying a basket. 

_Kagome’s basket_.

But no Kagome.

_Where the fuck was Kagome?_

Kōga was raging inside, but played it cool. He leaned against a tree and crossed his arms casually, waiting until the young man with the sandy topknot approached him.

“Afternoon,” he said in a friendly tone. 

The young man looked up and frowned at Kōga. “Afternoon,” the young man said cautiously. 

Kōga laughed and held up his hands to show he was unarmed. “No need to be afraid,” he added, “I’m not armed. Just a friendly hunter on his way home, like you.”

The young man’s frown deepened. “I’m not going home,” he said. “I’m going to help out my future grandmother.”

“Oh?” Kōga’s blood was now boiling, and it took all he had within him to not lose himself completely. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

The young man shrugged and kept walking. Kōga fell in line beside him. “It’s no big deal,” the young man said, “and it gets me in good with my fiance's family.” 

“I guess it would,” Kōga commented. “You must love her if you’re willing to help out like this.”

The young man shrugged again. “Not really,” he said. “But she’s…” and the young man winked suddenly. “She’s... _you know_ ,” he added conspiratorially, as though they were friends, which they sure as fuck were not. “I’ll at least have fun with her, even if I have to be married to her. Until she gets pregnant, anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “You know what women are like after that.”

Kōga’s rage was bubbling over. He was sure his face was purple with anger. This...this was Kagome’s fiancee? And he didn’t give a shit about her? Kōga took a deep breath and thought about Kagome’s sparkling gray eyes, her lustrous blue-black hair, her dazzling smile, and her lips..oh gods, her _lips_...on his cheek.

“I sure do,” Kōga grinning, his instincts aching to take action. They reached a point where the path split, and Kōga turned to head away from Kagome’s grandmother’s hut. “Good luck today, friend,” he said to the young man. “I’m sure your future wife will appreciate your efforts.”

The young man shrugged. “I guess,” he said, “but I really don’t care what she thinks. Just how she looks. And how good of a fuck she is.”

Kōga growled under her breath, but flashed a gleaming smile at the young man and dashed off down the other path in the opposite direction.

When he was a safe distance away, Kōga ducked behind some trees. He stopped, dropped his game on the forest floor, and began to strip. As each layer of clothing was removed, he felt more and more like himself. And when he was at last fully nude, he dropped to all fours and let out a mournful howl. 

Because someone was going to die that night.

* * *

Hojo Akitoki was a silly young man. He walked the path to Kagome’s grandmother’s house haphazardly, swinging the basket, cognizant of the fact that there was a knife in there, but not thinking he would ever have to use it. Besides, he was a man, it was daylight, and the path was well-worn. Surely no one would bother him that day.

His thoughts turned to his betrothed. He’d meant what he said to the hunter. She _was_ beautiful, and he had spent the past few weeks thinking about all the ways that he could take her. Higurashi Kagome was feisty, and he was pretty sure she didn’t want to marry him. And that made him burn all the hotter for her. A delectable body, gifted to him by his father, with curves and tits and an ass that he had been immediately obsessed with upon meeting her. He couldn’t wait for the day when she would be his, and he could finally act on all his fantasies. 

Hojo was so busy thinking about Kagome’s breasts that he didn’t see or hear the creature stalking him on the path. He was so busy thinking about Kagome’s hips that he didn’t see or hear the creature pad up behind him softly. And he was so busy thinking about his cock pounding into the heat of her sex that he didn’t hear the low growl, the leap from the forest floor, or the jaws snapping onto his neck. Hojo was so busy thinking that he forgot to act, and the last thing he saw in this world were vibrant blue eyes bearing down on him, as fangs tore apart his flesh and the creature feasted on him with pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's the end of Hojo! Now that the path is clear for Kōga, the question remains...will he take it? And how will Kagome respond? 
> 
> As always, thanks everyone for reading, and I will see you at the next, and final, update!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolf lies in wait for Kagome. What will she do when she finds him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Koga, or Kagome, or anyone else from the Inuyasha manga or anime series.
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and doing well.
> 
> Welcome to the last chapter of The Forsaken Path! I'm so thankful that you've come on this journey with me. It was my absolute pleasure to have the opportunity to adapt Carter's story, and I hope that you've enjoyed it.
> 
> This final chapter features many of the reasons for the tags, so please heed them carefully. It's going to get very spicy, and...let's just say if you're familiar with the Red Riding Hood fairy tale, you'll be seeing some elements of that here, as well...
> 
> I'm so grateful to [nartista](https://nartista-digital.tumblr.com/) for her gorgeous (and also spicy) commissioned artwork featured in this chapter!

When Hojo Akitoki didn’t come home from Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s house that day, people were mildly concerned, but not terribly. After all, he had started out late in the day, and it was customary to not walk through the woods after dark. 

But when he didn’t return the next day, or the next, people started to get worried. There were search parties sent out; they combed the forest floor along the path to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s house. They searched the surrounding woods, and even out beyond the woods, to the wolf tribe lands. But there was no sign of Hojo Akitoki.

Kagome couldn’t say that she was surprised. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew _exactly_ what happened to Hojo-kun, and to be honest? He kind of deserved it. He wasn’t a nice young man, no matter what Kagome’s parents said. He would have been a terrible husband, and an even worse father (should they have had any children—the thought made Kagome shudder in horror). No, she was better off without Hojo-kun in her life.

Of course, did she want him dead? No. Was she sad that he was most probably dead? Perhaps not as much as she should have been.

However, Hojo-kun’s disappearance made Kagome all the more comfortable with traveling the road to her grandmother’s house, because she knew that, above all else, she would be safe. That she was pretty sure that Kōga-kun had been the one to protect her from Hojo, because he could tell what kind of life she was being set up for. Because—she knew—he cared about _all_ of her, not just her body or how many children she would give. 

Yes, Kōga-kun loved her, would fight for her, would _kill_ for her.

And she would do the same for him.

She just needed to convince her parents that the woods were safe, because now, with Hojo-kun gone, there was nothing standing in the way of Kagome being with her handsome, beloved, huntsman. And _gods_ , how she wanted to be with him, too, beyond just her dreams, where he continued to ravage her body every evening. In her dreams, his eyes were an even brighter blue, and it almost seemed like he had...fangs? And a tail? And these things, instead of disgusting her, or being the source of her horror, actually...enticed her more. 

It was like she knew, somewhere, deep down, that her huntsman was perhaps...not quite human. And she didn’t care.

It was New Year’s Eve, about a week after Hojo-kun disappeared. Kagome was getting anxious to get back to her grandmother’s. She knew that Tsubaki-obaa-chan was devastated by Hojo-kun’s death; Kagome’s father had been to see her grandmother and had given her the “tragic” news. And he reported back that Tsubaki-obaa-chan had cried, and screamed, and warned Suikotsu to watch Kagome carefully, that she had been “bewitched by an ookami” and was no longer right in the head. The fact that the wolves had howled the night Kagome was born had been bad omen enough, but now her grandmother firmly believed that it had left her vulnerable to ookami magics. Tsubaki-obaa-chan was adamant that Kagome had fallen in love with an ookami, and was planning to run away with him.

Suikotsu had scoffed at the old woman, but back home, Kagome had heard her parents talking in low tones after she’d gone to bed at night. They were worried. About Tsubaki-obaa-chan. And about Kagome. Because while Tsubaki-obaa-chan was clearly senile, Kagome _had_ been traveling alone on the road to her grandmother’s safely time and time again, while Hojo-kun traveled there once and disappeared. They wondered (and rightly so, Kagome knew): could there be some truth to Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s ravings? Could Kagome be haunted by an ookami spirit?

Kagome begged, and cajoled, and did countless chores around the house, all in a desperate attempt to be allowed to go back to her grandmother’s hut. Her father was adamant that she not be allowed to go, but her mother…

Her mother could be persuaded.

So that morning, New Year’s Eve morning, Kagome awoke early. She cleaned the entire hut, from top to bottom. She made breakfast; she got the laundry washed and ready to be hung outside; she did absolutely everything her mother could possibly ask her to do.

Suikotsu was out that day, on a hunt. He would not be back until the evening, for the New Year's celebrations. Kagome had her mother alone, all day, to convince her to let Kagome go to her grandmother’s.

It didn’t take much convincing.

“Your grandmother has been so lonely without you there, Kagome dear,” Kikyo said, putting together a basket of goodies for her own mother. She added some sake, some root vegetables, 5 lbs of rice, and some salted and dried meat for Tsubaki-obaa-chan. She paused, then added some mochi to it as well. Kagome’s eyes lit up at that one; she realized that Kōga would be extra excited to see that her mother had once again packed the sweet dessert.

“In fact,” added Kikyo, turning her face to the door, “it’s already late in the day. Why don’t you stay the night? Your grandmother will be glad of the company.”

Kagome’s heart soared. “Yes, okaa-san,” she said gratefully, “and thank you.”

“Now,” said her mother, smiling at her daughter’s enthusiasm, “wear your shawl, and keep to the path. And by all the gods in the heavens, be back early tomorrow, or your father will have both of our hides.” 

Kagome kissed her mother on the cheek. “I will, okaa-san,” she said, “and thank you.”

“The knife is in the basket,” Kikyo said, “and don’t forget to use it if you need it.”

“I won’t,” Kagome promised. She went to the doormat, pushed it aside, then turned back to look at her mother. Kikyo was tall, and beautiful; her dark almond eyes glistened as she gave her daughter a wave. “Goodbye, Kagome dear,” her mother said. “Be safe.”

“I will,” Kagome replied, slipped through the doormat, and towards the path that would take her to her grandmother’s house. 

That would take her to her huntsman.

* * *

Kagome didn’t have to walk long on the trail before she spotted the familiar forest green haori and hakama leaning against a tall Japanese pine, his vibrant blue eyes watching the path for her. When he saw her, his face broke out into a gleaming smile; his teeth shining in the late morning sun. Kagome shivered, but smiled back. She was _so happy_ to see him again.

Kōga crossed the forest floor to her side and took her hands in his own. “Kagome,” he said in a queer, rough voice that didn’t sound quite like him. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Kōga-kun,” said Kagome, blushing. Now that she was here, and she was with him, it was hard to look him in the face. All she could think about were her dreams, with the feel of his hands on her arms, her cheeks, her breasts....

Red. She was sure that her face must be red. 

“So, uh…” she was stammering, and she never had a hard time with words.

“Yes, Kagome,” Kōga said easily, capturing her gray eyes with his blue, “I’m here for you.”

She smiled and let out a whoosh of air. 

“You’re at an early part of the path, you know,” she said, starting to walk again. Kōga laughed and fell into step beside her easily.

“I couldn’t wait for our usual spot to see you,” he admitted, “so I ventured towards the village a little more.”

“So we have more time together,” Kagome teased him lightly.

“So we do,” Kōga said, slightly surprised. He paused. “I’ll carry your basket for you again?” he proposed, not really phrasing it as a question, but Kagome didn’t care. 

“Gladly,” she said, handing it to him. Kouga accepted, and slipped the basket up to the crook of his elbow. He offered her his other arm, and she took it; they set off together down the path.

“This is heavy today, Kagome,” Kōga said, feigning difficulty with the basket.

“It should be easy for you,” Kagome shot back, “seeing as how you’re not carrying any game.”

“I didn’t have time to hunt today,” he retorted, “because I was busy all day waiting for a certain young lady in a red shawl to make her way to me.”

“And now that I’m here, Kōga-kun,” Kagome teased, “what will you do with me?” She paused, horrified at her own words.

Kōga stopped, and stared at her, and pursed his lips, as though he were lost in thought. “How about a little wager, Kagome?” he asked her slowly, carefully. “Let’s race to your grandmother’s house.”

“We’ve done that already, Kōga-kun,” she scoffed, flipping her hair. “How about something else?”

Kōga turned, and leaned in close to Kagome. His pine scent swept her up; she let out a little gasp at his proximity to her.

“How about a kiss, Kagome?” he whispered. His breath was hot on her face.

“We already _did_ that,” she said impatiently.

“A _real_ kiss,” he replied immediately. “A real kiss.” He paused. “Do you know what a ‘real kiss’ is, Kagome?”

Kagome let out a little growl. “ _Of course_ I know what a ‘real kiss’ is, Kōga-kun,” she huffed. She paused, her mind whirling at the anticipation of what was to come. “Okay,” she added, “Okay. Let’s do it. The loser has to give the winner a real kiss.”

Kōga grinned at her; Kagome’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. “Are you ready, Kagome?” he asked her softly. When she nodded, he stood up. “Okay,” he said. “One...two…”

“Three!” Kagome shouted, pushing past him and running down the path. Kōga laughed after her and bounded back into the woods, preparing to run faster than he had ever run in his life.

Because: he was going to get that kiss from Kagome. And hopefully, a whole lot more.

What he didn’t know was that after her big display of running off down the path, Kagome slowed considerably once Kōga was out of sight. She dawdled, taking her time, giving Kōga all the lead time she thought he would need to be able to beat her to her grandmother’s. Because she very much wanted to be the one to give him that real kiss.

* * *

Kōga loped ahead of Kagome easily; he knew that he would have her beat by a good number of minutes, if not more. He was, after all, the prince of the ookami, and there was no one faster than Kōga when it came to covering great distances in a short amount of time. His legs had always been swift, but as he grew older, and trained his youki, he found that he was able to travel faster and faster. And he loved that feeling: the wind rushing past his body, the sounds of the forest, all blending together as he ran. The forest creatures all knew who he was, and they respectfully gave him space.

In no time at all, he reached Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s house. He knew that he had to work quickly; Kagome could follow fairly soon, and he wanted to be finished before she did so. 

The snow had been falling off and on all day; it crunched under Kōga’s feet, causing him to leave footprints behind. He didn’t like that; he wanted his presence to be undetected. So he took a branch from a nearby tree and began to brush away his footprints, leaving the snow fresh and largely untouched. Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s hut was small: just a single room, with a single doormat. 

Kōga smiled and licked his chops. This would be easy.

He approached the door and rapped on the doorframe with his knuckles. 

“Who is it?” came the shrill voice from within.

“It’s Kagome, your granddaughter,” Kōga mimicked in a high-pitched tone.

“Oh, Kagome child,” said the voice, “come on in.’

Kōga slid the doormat aside and strode into the hut. He looked around, his eyes narrowing at what he saw.

There was a fire pit, with a massive hanging pot; the embers from the fire were keeping it warm. To the left was a long, low table, and above it, shelves, on which were fixed all kinds of potions and herbs and creams and salves; many of them looked to be handmade. The table also housed a small Buddha figure; the only sign of religion in the house. There was a futon rolled up and propped against the far wall; Kōga could also see a roughly hewn door at the back of the hut leading outside somewhere. 

Tsubaki-obaa-chan was sitting with her back to the door, whittling away on some bone for one of her latest creations. “Kagome child?” she called out again, not bothering to look up from her work. “Why don’t you come and say hello to your grandmother?”

“Because she ain’t here, obaba.”

Tsubaki-obaa-chan turned around and gasped loudly at the sight of the tall man in her hut. He grinned at her, and his fangs were dripping; his eyes burned a bright, fierce blue. He dropped Kagome’s basket; the insides clattered together.  
  
“Who—who are you?” she asked. Then, she paused. “You’re that fool huntsman that Kagome is always going on about, aren’t you? The one that nearly got her killed?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you have her basket? Have you done something to her?”

Kōga set down Kagome’s basket, then began removing his haori. “I can assure you, obaba,” he said, “Kagome is perfectly safe, and will continue to be safe.” He now pulled his kosode from his pants, and took that off as well. He untied his hakama at the waist and at the ankles, and stepped out of those,too.

“What—what are you doing?” Tsubaki-obaa-chan shrieked.

Now clad only in his fundoshi, Kōga turned to the old woman. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunted her. “You have been against my being with your granddaughter from the very beginning. You even went so far as to insist that she pair up that Hojo Akitoki guy, who clearly only saw her as a sow, fit only for fucking and breeding. She had no desire to marry him.” Kōga paused. “And you encouraged this relationship in her life; you saw her as much as livestock as Hojo did. You saw her only as something to be bought and sold; you didn’t see her as her own person. Like I do.” He smirked. “I see her, and she sees me, someone who, I might add, is a million times better than that Hojo bastard; someone who will love and respect your granddaughter. Hojo would have done neither. And now, Tsubaki-obaba,” he added, growling loudly now, “let’s see how you fare against the ookami prince.” And with a howl, he ripped off his fundoshi and threw it in the fire. He dropped to all fours, the hair spreading out across his body, his handsome face twisting and lengthening into a snout, his entire body twisting and shaking until he found his natural form.

Tsubaki-obaa-chan screamed as she watched the handsome man before her transform into an ugly, horrible, snarling wolf. He paced the length of the hut, watching her squirm, and scuttle back, away from the fire, away from any potential weapons. 

“Namu Amida Butsu,” she was chanted softly, over and over again, as she looked for a way to escape.

“None of the gods in heaven will come to help you now, obaba,” Kōga said darkly, his voice coming out thick and rough in his wolf form. “Save your breath for me.”

And he leapt on Tsubaki-obaa-chan, ripping out her throat so she could not scream, and taking apart her body with his teeth and his claws, devouring all of her that he could, until he was sated, and until all that were left were the bones. Kōga licked his chops thoroughly, cleaning them off, then rose up on his hind legs and retrieved his haori, kosode and hakama. Now, as he dressed, he felt himself returning back to human form, and he smiled, thinking of how Kagome was about to come through that door and the look of shock and surprise (and, he hoped, of love) that would cross her face.

 _Yes_ , he thought as he cleaned up the mess he had made, wrapping the old woman’s bones in her kimono and stashing them in a corner of the hut, out of the way of Kagome’s possible vision. _Yes_ , he thought, as he cleaned up his maw with some cool, fresh spring water. _She will be_ very _surprised when she comes through that door, and her grandmother is gone, and it’s only me here._

Kōga took Tsubaki-obaa-chan’s place beside the fire, wrapped himself in her shawl, and waited...and waited...and waited.

* * *

Kagome had taken her sweet time getting to her grandmother’s house; it was well past dark by the time she danced up to the property’s edge. She wanted more than anything to give Kōga a “real kiss,” and she wanted more than anything to receive a “real kiss” in return. But despite her desire to give him plenty of time, she also knew that she did have to hurry, as her grandmother would worry that she had arrived so late in the day.

When she reached her grandmother’s house, she was confused: no Kōga. Where could he be? Why was he not there? Did he not want his ‘real kiss’?

Sighing and disappointed, Kagome rapped on the doorframe, the sound radiating out into the night _._

“Who’s there?” called a high-pitched, shrill voice that sounded nothing like Tsubaki-obaa-chan.

Kagome’s eyes narrowed. “It’s only your granddaughter, Kagome.”

“Come in, then, child,” the voice replied, “Come in, Kagome.”

Kagome pushed aside the doormat, the bamboo crinkling under her touch, and entered the hut; a gust of wind kicked up behind her, blowing a small drift of snow in at her feet. Kagome was surprised (and a little disappointed) to see her grandmother still sitting at the fire pit, and no sign of Kōga. 

“Tsubaki-obaa-chan?” Kagome said hesitantly. Then her eyes found her basket, and she knew:

That was _not_ her grandmother.

Kagome watched, astonished, as Kōga leapt to his feet and flung the shawl away to reveal himself before her: tall, and dark, and terrible. Saliva dripped down his long fangs, and Kagome could now see that his fingers were tipped by lethal-looking claws. He was her huntsman, yes, but more frightening, and more _beautiful_ , than she could have imagined. His eyes watched her: cold, piercingly blue eyes that held a touch of sadness to them. Kagome began to wonder if this was his true form, or if he could transform even _more_. What else was he capable of? She began to quiver with anticipation.

So, she decided to play a little game with him to find out.

“Kōga-kun?” she asked. “Where is my grandmother?”

Kōga looked at her with a slow, sad smile. “You know very well where your grandmother is, _Ka-Go-Me_ , don’t you?”

“You—” Kagome’s face lit up with recognition, and a little revulsion. “You ate her.”

“She would have had you sold you off like a cow to the highest bidder, Kagome,” he told her seriously. “And I couldn’t have that. Not when you are _mine_.”

Kagome hummed an agreement; he wasn’t wrong about her grandmother’s intentions for her. And like with Hojo, she wished she could feel...something, _anything_ , but instead she felt...relief? Something else...something deeper, and darker, and full of desire, that started in her heart and flooded out to the rest of her body? Something that began...and ended...with _him_.

Just then, a great howling wind struck up outside the hut, and with it, the howling of wolves. Kagome knew instantly that these two incidents were related, and she felt a shaking of the self, right through to her core.

“Look—look who has come to say hello to you, koishii.” Kōga’s voice was now impossibly gentle. “Do you know who is outside?”

“Wolves?” Was that her voice? So dark, and needy?

“And what do you think of the howling wolves, Kagome? Do you think they are frightening?” Kōga’s face was inscrutable as he studied hers for an answer.

Kagome thought for a moment. “No,” she said at last. “Not frightening. Just hungry, and tired, and needy, and cold. Just like humans.” She paused, trying to decide if she should say next what she truly wanted to say. “Just like...just like you, and just like me.”

Kōga hummed an agreement. “Those are my packmates, Kagome. Tonight, you and I? We are surrounded by wolves. The wolves are here, and they are watching, and they know. Do you wish to see them?” When Kagome nodded, he gestured at the door. She reached for the doormat frame, tugged at the mat, and poked her head outside. What she saw in the moment both made her freeze and filled her heart with warmth.

Wolves—maybe 20, maybe 100, it was hard to say—were lining the perimeter surrounding the property, sitting up on their haunches, howling desperately at the moon. When they saw her, they knew that their prince had chosen well and that she would be a good match, and their howls became, louder, and longer, in their approval.

“It’s so cold out there for the wolves,” Kagome commented. “I wish they didn’t have to be outside in the cold at all. I wish that we could help.”

“Do you feel cold, Kagome?” Kōga asked suddenly. “Is it too cold in here for you?”

Kagome snapped the mat back against the doorframe, letting the cold air whoosh back outside. Satisfied with their mode of protection, She turned back to him, and smiled. 

“Never, Kōga-kun,” said Kagome, sidling up close to him, “it’s not too cold. Not when I have you.” She paused for a moment to watch him take in what she was saying; his eyes reflected his surprise, with a spark of curiosity now burning in them. “What shall I do with my shawl?” she asked him lightly. “It’s awfully warm in here with the fire going.”

Kōga’s normally bright blue eyes were dark with lust. “Throw it onto the fire, koishii,” he murmured. “You won’t be needing it anymore.”

Kagome untied her bright red shawl—the one her grandmother had once made for her—and tossed it onto the fire. She watched as the flames lapped it up eagerly, shooting higher and higher in their desire to devour it quickly.

She tugged at her kimono next. “How about my kimono, Kōga-kun? What should I do with this?” 

His eyes reflected the burning flames of the fire. “You won’t be needing that, either,” he told her, and watched, hungrily, as she removed her delicate kimono and tossed it into the fire, as well, the flames gobbling it up just as quickly as they did her shawl. She stood there, dressed only in her kosode, her womanly form silhouetted against the firelight, her dusky nipples poking the fabric, the dark hair of her sex brushing up against the cotton.

She played with the tie of her kosode, looking up at him from under heavy-lidded eyes. He nodded once, solemnly, and she unbelted it, then gently parted the collar with her fingertips, allowing the fabric to fall away from her chest, her shoulders, and down her arms. This she handed to Kōga, who threw it quickly, carelessly, onto the flames, not even caring when it burned. 

His eyes were solely on Kagome. He only had eyes for her, and they grew wide as he took her fully in. Her flesh was resplendent in the firelight: pink, translucent, healthy and vibrant with youth. Her eyes were shining; her cheeks, flushed with passion. She reached up and combed her fingers through her blue-black hair, which glowed even more sapphire in the darkness of the room, contrasted with the brightness of the flames. Kōga watched, fascinated; ready to pounce, and yet, allowing her to take her time, to feel confident in her nudity. 

Because she _was_ beautiful.

And tonight, she would also be his. 

Kagome stepped closer to him; her vanilla and sakura scent was making him dizzy and drunk with desire. She reached forward to untie his hakama at his waist; his hands automatically went to her arms. 

“Kōga-kun,” she purred, “what big arms you have.”

“All the better to hug you with, koishii,” he murmured, his voice husky and rough. 

Kagome couldn’t help it; she stood on tiptoe and used the sleeves of his haori to yank him closer—closer—until she could press her lips to his, giving him the kiss that he had won, that he had earned. And the kiss was deep; it was passionate; it was full of the promise of their darkest desires for each other, coming true.

The wolves outside knew this, and they howled, and they howled, and they _howled_.

[ ](https://photos.google.com/u/4/share/AF1QipMRvnk43VtTPeUmve-ZhTl5B1L2O5EzP5zA1A2iizj5GLm3sLyBJHBG3CdF6NPl0A/photo/AF1QipMfv6BU6XrFO3IDLElQ3O06ky-XN3n4JjVrVH6S?key=NEktcUxLMGhZRklWZjFEZVJXaGdNQlFTdTJmZVp3)

Commissioned Artwork by [nartista](https://nartista-digital.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Kagome pressed her tongue against his lips; Kōga opened his mouth and allowed her entry. She explored him freely, running her tongue over his teeth and his fangs, massaging them gently, and wrestling with his own tongue, which was eager to explore her mouth, in return. She broke the kiss; he whined at the loss of contact, but she offered a kiss to his nose before she said: 

“And Kōga-kun, what big teeth you have!”

She saw him begin to drool, the saliva dripping from the fangs he could no longer hide. The wolves outside picked up on their prince’s arousal and began to bark and yip, along with their howls, making for a raucous cacophony of wolf sounds outside.

He grinned, and showed her all his teeth, then said:

“All the better to eat you with.”

And Kagome burst out laughing at that one; she knew that he would never get to devour her like Hojo, like her grandmother. No, she knew that she was not his meal, nor any man’s, for that matter. She laughed more loudly, grabbing the sides of his haori, and ripping them out of his hakama, over his shoulders, and down his arms. She tossed that in the fire too, where it came to rest on the charred remains of her own clothing; the fire was ecstatic to receive something new and tasty for it to incinerate. The flames danced up in glee as Kagome removed Kōga’s kosode, then his hakama, throwing them all on the fire, one by one, the wolves outside growing louder and louder in their frenzy.

At long last, the two were fully naked, and at long last, they were going to each get what they had desired. 

Kōga drew her close, and ran his hands tenderly through her hair; Kagome sighed and circled her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another deep, loving kiss. His hands lingered over her shoulders as he basked in the taste of her lips; soft, sweet, like the mochi she had fed him. They gently circled down her arms, tickling the skin, making her writhe, even from just a kiss and light touches. 

Imagine what he would be doing to her in just a few short minutes.

Kagome was completely lost in his lips; they were softer than she expected, but also, _he_ was softer than she expected: a cute little bear cub, underneath all the toughness and bluster that was clearly a facade. He was compliant, and willing, and yielding under her touch; she allowed her hands to roam freely over his chest, his arms, and his back. She tipped her head back slightly, and was pleased when he let out a growl and began to move his lips away from her own and to her chin, her jawline, and then finally, the little space under her ear where her jawline and her throat connected. And then, he _licked_ that spot, and Kagome’s knees nearly gave way; Kōga caught her just in time, before she completely collapsed. 

He grunted in anticipation, even as he latched onto her neck and began to kiss and suck at it in earnest, knowing what was to come, knowing that she needed to be properly prepared. He needed a futon. His eyes darted around the room, and then Kagome pushed herself up against his cock and he lost all sense of decency and reason and nipped at her neck in return.

“Kōga-kun,” she panted, “ _please_.”

“Please what, Kagome?” he growled, now teasing her delicate skin with his fangs.

“ _Please_ ,” she moaned, “please use your fangs on me.”

Kōga let out a deep, feral growl, and allowed his fangs to work their way down from her neck. He dragged them over, and then between, her collarbones, and followed the length of her sternum down to her breasts. And what glorious breasts they were! Kōga paused for a moment there, carefully inhaling her vanilla and sakura scent, now increasingly tinged with ginger and lemon, enticing him, drawing him into her, deeper and deeper. He turned his face from left to right, nibbling each breast delicately in turn; her skin there was so new, and so pure, that it seemed translucent in the firelight, and he was almost loathe to be the one to mar her beautiful flesh.

But when Kagome looked down at Kōga, who was holding her breasts in his hands at the height of reverence, she knew that she would have to be the one to push him. To show him that she wasn’t just a delicate flower; that she wasn’t just someone to be worshiped. She was someone to be loved; and that love could be as deep and as dark as Kōga was as a man.

Because when she thought about making love, _that's what_ she imagined. A little rough, but pure, and still reverent, but _real_.

“There’s a futon in the corner,” Kagome whispered softly; Kōga’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice. “And some blankets as well.”

Kōga removed himself reluctantly from her breasts and searched the room. When he saw the desired futon, he crossed the room swiftly, drawing her along beside him, and when they got to the futon, they laid it out together, their eyes never leaving each other the entire time. Kōga grabbed some blankets from the corner and threw them on top of the mattress to make a warm nest. For him...and for her.

His mate.

Kagome looked down at the futon, then back up at him, her eyes dark and deep with desire. She again circled her arms around his neck and drew him close; they were nose-to-nose, and she could not let him go.

“Kagome,” he breathed. “Tonight…”

“Yes,” she said immediately, “yes.”

He chuckled and kissed her lightly. “No,” he told her forcefully, “you don’t understand. Tonight, I make you mine.”

“I am already yours, Kōga-kun,” she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.

Kōga felt his hardened length against the softness of her belly, and all thoughts of propriety flew out of his head. Because he knew she was right.

He was already hers. He’d been hers since the day he met her.

Kagome’s kisses grew deeper, and more insistent, and Kōga growled, his hands now roaming endlessly over her sweet flesh. His hands found her ass—two twin globes of peachy perfection—and he squeezed, digging his claws into her skin. She gasped into his mouth, and jumped into his arms.

“Take—take me to bed, Kōga-kun,” she panted. “Take me, _please_.”

Kōga dropped to his knees, his mouth still pressed to hers, his tongue now teasing apart her lips. She opened for him willingly, eagerly, and the moist heat made him desperate to taste other parts of her.

“Kagome,” he whispered adoringly, laying her gently on the mattress, “ _my_ Kagome.”

Kagome felt a chill shoot through her, and she broke the kiss, then shoved his head further down her torso.

Kōga pressed his face to the space between her breasts. How glorious, how sweet, how tasty she smelled. He...he needed her. He _needed_ to taste all of her.

He bared his fangs at her again; Kagome giggled and writhed under his solid form. _Fuck_ , she felt so perfect, so succulent; her flesh was ripe for devouring. He bent his head low and resumed his tasting, his teasing, of her skin. She tasted delectable. Her scent wafted off her in thick waves; Kōga was already drunk with arousal, but now? He was drowning in her. 

Kagome whined and writhed underneath him, then fisted her hands in his hair and yanked at his ponytail, pulling his hair free from the tie, and running her fingers through the glorious, thick strands. She opened her legs, and Kōga settled himself in between them. He turned his brilliant blue eyes up to her; she grinned, and pushed him even lower down her body, towards the part of her body where her scent was the most abundant and the most cloying. Kōga stopped at the soft hairs at the juncture of her thighs, and took a moment to inhale, his tongue darting out to taste her, because it could not wait. Kagome’s hiss, the way her fingers gripped the strands of his hair, drove him insane.

 _He_ could not wait; he could not pause even a moment. He _needed_ her. 

Kōga adjusted his body lower on the futon and pressed his face between her thighs.

Kagome resisted letting go a loud, keening cry as Kōga’s fingers and his tongue began to explore her most intimate parts. His hands were rough, but gentle, and the feel of his skin against hers made her sigh and whisper his name and twist about on the futon. His tongue was sharp, and cutting, and wove a tapestry across her pussy, darting here and there, and then inside, her muscles tensing as his thick tongue filled her up and ran along her delicate walls. His clawed fingers traced the length of her thighs, tickling and pricking her, and making her, by turns, giggle and sigh and squirm. He could feel her body rising and falling with his ministrations; soon, she would be ready for him to take her, and soon, he would be eager to do so.

For Kagome this was...better than her dreams, better than her own fingers on herself, pretending that they were Kōga’s. Because they _were_ his, and he loved her (she knew this, without him telling her), and anywhere he touched was like lightning leaping through the clouds. Her body was a beacon for him; she was warm, and safe, and pulled him into her, as a ship lost at sea finally finds its home. Every thrust of his tongue, every time his claws circled her clit, she whimpered and hoped that he would never stop. 

She was being built up, higher than she had ever climbed, and Kōga’s gentle hands and soft tongue were guiding her on her way to a form of nirvana she had never thought she would reach. And yet, here she was, rolling and twisting her hips, his name dropping delicately from her lips. She wanted nothing more than for him to finish what he started. 

“Kōga-kun,” she breathed, and his eyes drifted up to meet hers. She...didn’t know what to say. 

“Let it out, Kagome,” he grunted against the juncture of her thighs. “Let yourself go.” And he dug the heel of his hand into her mons as his tongue penetrated her more deeply.

“Kōga,” Kagome cried out, no longer hiding her pleasure. Her moans, her writhing body, told him that he was working her over perfectly. “ _Please_ ,” she practically sobbed with pleasure and torture, “ _please_.” Her eyes glowed, and her beautiful expression was strained.

And he understood immediately.

Kōga swapped his tongue and his fingers, bringing one, then another, down to insert into her dripping opening, leaving his tongue free to explore her soft lips and that tiny bundle of nerves that they both knew would give her so much pleasure. As his fingers and tongue roamed over her most tender parts, Kagome’s hands moved to the blankets on the futon and gripped them tightly. Her entire body was slowly going rigid, starting from the core of her being and radiating outward. He felt good—so good—against her, and the urges to let go completely were coming, stronger and closer together, her body tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing. Each time he pressed down on her clit, she howled and writhed under him, her legs and feet pushing dowards on the futon. Her body simply did not know how to process what was happening.

And then—it was all too fast, really—Kagome was snapping away from herself and going completely blank; she yelped Kōga’s name repeatedly as she orgasmed and released the sweetest of nectars for him. The wolves outside howled frantically and pawed at the walls of the hut as Kōga greedily drank her up, her legs twitching beneath him. Her breath slowed; her vision returned; she was vaguely aware of being tucked against a warm, hard body, fingers tracking gently through her hair, lips pressing to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. 

“Ko—Kōga-kun?” she whispered. Her body was blissful; _she_ was blissful. Perfect. Amazing.

How had he…?

“Kagome, koishii,” he breathed into her hair. “We’re not done yet. Are you ready for me?”

Kagome shivered against his chest, but said, “yes, yes.”

“Good. It’s time, Kagome,” he said fiercely, adjusting her in his arms so she was now tucked into his chest. “I get to fuck you, and I get to make you mine.”

Kagome let out a shuddering sigh and scooted up so she was straddling him. “Only—” she whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss “—only if you let me make you mine, too.”

Kōga’s growl was low, and pleased. The wolves outside howled their approval; Kagome could hear them pacing outside the hut, their tails thumping against the ground, the sides of the hut, the doormat. Her eyes grew wide, and Kōga chuckled.

“Don’t worry, koishii,” he said reverently, brushing her hair away from her forehead, “they will not disturb us tonight.” And he rolled over her, kissing her gently, tenderly, lovingly; all that he felt for her poured out into every kiss, every languid caress of her body, every thrust against her belly. 

Kagome felt him: felt his length, and his hardness, and the space between her thighs dampened even more at the thought. She once again opened her legs for him, and used her heels to draw him in. “Please, Kōga,” she begged again, her voice taking on a sharpness, her eyes glowing sapphires against the glow of the firelight, “ _please_. Please make me yours.” She sat up slightly and reached between them to feel his cock. It was thick, and hot, and slick with precum. She shivered. 

“Next time,” she said, “I get to put my mouth on _you_.” 

Kōga bellowed out his pleasure; he shoved her hand aside and drove his cock into her, harsh and fierce. 

Kagome sucked in a breath as he broke right through her hymen; he scented her blood, but this only encouraged him further, as he began to fuck her vigorously, like the wolf prince that he was. 

Because he _was_ Kōga: leader of the wolf demon tribe. And he had found his mate, and he was going to make her his.

And the wolves outside knew what had begun, and their howls and barks and yips grew louder and more robust; Kagome was faintly aware of what sounded like fighting outside, but she couldn’t think about that right now.

All she could think about was Kōga, and his piercing blue eyes, tinged with red, and his fangs, gleaming and dipping over his lips, and his cock, massive and rock-hard and pounding into her with all the ferocity of an animal, not a man. 

Because she knew: Kōga was not a man.

Deep down, in her dreams, she’d always known. And she didn’t care.

Kagome drew him close, and kissed him deeply, her tongue gently running over the pointed fangs, her sharp little nails dragging over his naked back, leaving trails of blood in their wake. She dug her heels into his lower back and arched her hips up towards him. Kōga growled his approval, his eyes gleaming, shifting from red to blue and back, the sweat forming on his neck and dripping down. Kagome felt a bit of hair along the back of his neck, under his hair, running past the natural hairline of a man. But she didn’t care. She grabbed his hair and yanked, hard, and he bent forward and nipped at her neck in response, leaving little bite marks along the way. Kagome nipped back at him, catching the skin of his throat between her blunt teeth, and each time he drove into her, she shook her head, taking his soft flesh along with her. 

Because Kōga was not a man. 

And in this moment, Kagome was not a woman.

They were two beings, united in their love and in their lust, their bodies joining in a savage and primal fucking, one that could only culminate in their souls joining fully. 

Kagome’s breath was coming in short, swift pants. She wanted...she wanted something. Something different, maybe. She let go of Kōga’s neck; he looked down at her, but she flashed him a vibrant smile, and lifted her legs up, perfectly perpendicular. Kōga howled his approval, and gripped her calves, his claws pricking her skin, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease in this position. He grabbed a blanket and drew her up by her legs, slipping the blanket under her hips, changing the angle. They both moaned at the shift, and Kagome could now feel him reaching deep inside her with every thrust; she drew her legs back further, wanting to take all of him into her, and this being the only she could have to make that happen. 

Because she needed him, just as much as he needed her. From the first moment on the path, when she saw him there, Kagome knew. She knew that he was different; when he flashed his weapon at her, she’d known from that instant for sure that he was not human. And she _liked_ that about him…. _no_.

Kagome _loved_ that about him. 

She loved his fierce, beautiful face; she loved his strong arms, holding her as they fucked; she loved his long, lithe body, so much like a wolf’s; she loved his fangs and what they could do to her, but never would; she loved his thick cock, pounding away into her; but most of all, she loved _him_.

“Ko-Kōga-kun,” she panted, “I—I—”

“ _I love you_.”

“I love you too, Kagome,” he whispered, and eased his thrusts to part her legs, drop over her, and press a soft kiss to her lips. He held her legs open, enjoying the control he had when she was like this, Kagome letting out soft cries and begging for him to finish what he had started.

But...not yet. Not quite yet. 

Kōga’s cock was hard, and Kagome was holding steady; every thrust was a squeezing of his shaft, and every movement was a pulsing inside her that was making him heady. He looked down at her; Kagome’s eyes were bright, and glossy, and flush with desire and love. And _fuck_ , if that didn’t start to awaken all kinds of instincts he wanted to be able to keep under control. 

He...had to tell her. _Now_.

“Kagome,” he grunted, still fucking her and trying to hold onto his sanity. “I’m gonna bite you. Mark you. Make you mine. Forever.”

“Forever, huh?” she murmured, tilting her hips up slightly and using her hands to keep her legs apart. “Forever sounds like a good length of time to me.” She sighed and shifted against him as the familiar tensing and releasing of her muscles started to take over her body again. “Just,” she whispered, fighting against her urge to let go completely again, “just let me know what I need to do.” She sighed again, shifting her hips, trying to relieve the pressure pooling in her groin. Her entire body was lighting up with every thrust he took; her nerves were on fire; she gripped her own legs, holding them open, taking deep breaths, saying his name, over and over, with every breath, every sigh. She tilted her head back, baring her neck for him, and Kōga let out a massive growl, letting his pack know his pleasure, and they howled outside in response.

She was everything he could want in a mate. She was taking his cock so well; she was offering her throat in a sign of submission. She was returning his nips and bites on her skin with her own nips and bites on his flesh. Kōga let out a low rumble, his own body feeling a growing pressure, originating in his cock and spreading outwards. Every time he touched her, his body thrilled. Every time he kissed her, their auras flared and he was reaching a height previously unknown. Because Kōga had had women before. There was a line of female ookami just waiting for him to claim them back at his den. But Kōga didn’t want an ookami female.

He wanted Kagome.

He wanted her, and now, he was about to have her.

His thrusts were getting harder, and faster, and Kagome lowered her legs back around his hips to help control the rhythm of their movements. They were flowing together, feeding off each other, their hips moving in perfect time. Kagome felt high, and tense—a string that was ready to be snapped with one sudden move, one snip, one twang—and she knew what she had to do. 

Kagome had been training as a priestess, but she never really used her powers—there was no reason to. She hadn’t been quite ready yet to be a healer, and her father and grandmother had mostly seen it as a dalliance—something to occupy her until she got married. But now, she felt an instinctual pull to use it. She drew forth her power, yanked Kōga down to her, said, “it’s time,” and finally allowed herself to fully let go as she drove her teeth into his shoulder and bit down, hard, infusing the bite with some of her reiki. Her move so shocked Kōga that he was unprepared, and he felt himself also at the beginning of an orgasm. 

In response to his incredible mate, he immediately locked his own jaws on Kagome’s shoulder, and bit down, hard, infusing her bite with his youki, the two of them reaching their climax together as they delighted in the feel of each other’s teeth, and powers, and bodies, naked and slick and hearts beating together harshly. Kōga wrapped Kagome up in his arms, keeping his jaws tight on her shoulder as he released into her, over and over, coating her insides with his seed. Kagome’s hips jerked up into him, accepting his cum, accepting him as her mate, accepting him as her present, and her future.

It was midnight on New Year’s Eve when the wolf prince found and marked his mate. An auspicious time for a mating, as it would bring new opportunities, and possibly, new life, to the tribe. The wolves outside celebrated in honor of this moment; they howled, and they beat their tails, and they beat the walls of the hut again. They snarled and they nipped and they yowled as they rolled around, outside the hut, in the snow. Kōga laid down on the futon, taking Kagome with him, holding her close, his cock still twitching inside her. Despite all the outside noise, Kagome and Kōga lay together, quietly listening to the celebration outside, and having their own celebration inside. 

Kagome sighed, and when Kōga started to unsheathe himself, she growled and ground down on his cock. “Not yet,” she whispered, “I don’t want to lose you yet.”

Kōga chuckled and kissed her gently. “You will never lose me, koshii,” he said. “We’ve made sure of that. In fact…” He didn’t know how to ask about her latent power. Where had it come from? Why hadn’t he known about it before this point?

“I have been doing spiritual training,” Kagome said quietly, as if reading his thoughts. “The goal was for me to get married, but my mother recognized that I had some spiritual power, and wanted me to train so that I could be a healer. An acceptable profession for a married woman.” He could _feel_ her roll her eyes, and he chuckled again. 

“With me, you can be whatever you want,” he assured her. He didn’t know if she could be a priestess anymore, but _fuck_ , he would give her anything that he could.

As the noise from outside slowly died down, Kōga finally withdrew this cock. He rose, his hair flowing out behind him; his muscular, tanned body upright and strong; his cock still dripping with their cum. He strode to the doormat, flung it open, and went out into the snow. Kagome’s heart immediately froze, but she heard Kōga’s voice, loud and clear, shouting in a language she didn’t quite understand, but didn’t care. When he came back into the hut, he was grinning, and the wolves outside were once again howling and barking and bellowing their approval. He paused when he saw her, shining with the glow of love and of sex.

“I saw that your grandmother has a separate room off to the side here,” he commented lightly.

“She—she does,” Kagome said in surprise. “She insisted on having her hut built around a hot spring.” Kagome’s eyes narrowed. “Not that she ever let any of us use it, of course.”

Kōga held out his hand to her; Kagome took it, and he pulled her to standing. “Come on,” he said in a slightly strangled tone, “let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Kagome took a step, but she felt a little wobbly; Kōga lifted her up into his arms in an instant. He opened the door at the back of the hut, and saw that there was a hot spring, surrounded by four walls and a loosely thatched roof to allow the steam to escape. He carried her easily, Kagome nuzzling his new mating mark and giving him little nips and kisses along the way. He shivered; her instincts were already taking control, and he was ecstatic. Kōga entered the bath, and was immediately thrown by the overwhelming scents in the little alcove.

“My grandmother liked to store her creams and whatever else she was making out here,” Kagome said bitterly. “It was most important to her that she remain looking young, no matter how old she was.”

“Things like that don’t matter in hell,” Kōga said to her. “Now, here.” He stepped into the hot spring, and sat slowly, bringing Kagome into his lap as he so. His body sang at the heat; hers eagerly lapped it up. They sat that way there, together, for a good while, Kagome nestled into his chest, his arms around her, her body recovering, her mass of beautiful hair winding in circles on the water’s surface.

“It’s okay, koshii,” he said, “I’ve got you.”

Kagome whipped her head around to meet his eyes, which had returned to their natural, bright blue, and she realized that she wanted to do something for him.

“Kōga-kun,” she whispered.

“Just Kōga now, koishii,” he whispered back.

She smiled. “Kōga,” she said, trying out the shift in language and deciding that she liked it. “Kōga,” she said again, “my grandmother’s soaps are behind you. Over there,” she added, pointing. “Will you get a few for me?”

Kōga growled. “I don’t like scents, Kagome,” he said. “And I don’t want your scent to wash away.”

Kagome giggled. “You can have my scent on you as often as you like,” she replied. “Now, please, let me do something nice for you.”

Kōga grumbled, but reached across to the other side of the hot spring. He pulled several clay jars towards them; he opened each one, sniffing carefully, until he found one that he thought was acceptable. He handed it to her; she took it with a small smile, then shifted herself around so she was straddling his lap. Neither of them missed his cock pressed between her thighs, but Kagome tried to ignore it. She had more important things to do.

Taking the soap, Kagome gently lathered Kōga’s arms, chest, and neck, paying careful attention to his new mating mark (and how it made him moan softly when she touched it just so). She bade him to dunk under the water, and when he came back up, she proceeded to wash his long, thick, black, luxurious hair; she had to set the soap jar down and have him dunk his head again in order to help him fully rinse all the suds out. Then, she scooted away from him, and with a wag of her finger, demanded he stand. She soaped up his hips, his thighs, his calves—and then she carefully and reverently washed his cock, leaning forward to kiss the tip when she was done. He shivered again, then pulled her to standing, whispering, “Let me do the same for you.” Kagome nodded, and handed him the soap jar. Carefully, tenderly, he ran his hands all over her body, carefully washing her down, lamenting the fact that he was washing away their combined scent, but rejoicing because she had said that he could cover her in his scent anytime he wanted. And that was really all he asked.

Like Kagome had done for Kōga’s, he paid special attention to her mating mark, which was still raw and red from the actual ceremony. He gently cleaned the mark, then licked it, hoping that between the soap and his saliva, it would heal quickly. She sighed under his touch; her arousal spiked, and it was all he could do not to fuck her again, right then and there.

But he couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_. Because, he still had one thing left to show her, and he needed all his faculties in order to do so. He didn’t want to be tempted by her tender, moist flesh, any more than he already was. 

Kōga stepped from the spring first; he shook himself off, then peeked back into the main room of the house to find a towel for Kagome. He found a large cotton one, and holding out his hand to her, he helped her out of the spring, and proceeded to rub her down thoroughly with the towel, making sure she was completely dry. “Better?” he asked her, and when she nodded, he swept her up in his arms again, and carried her back into the main room, where he set her down beside the fire.

“Kagome,” he said roughly, searching for the right words, “I’m not an ordinary man, you know.”

Kagome smiled and leaned forward, rubbing his hands on his chest. “I know,” she said quietly. “From the first day I met you, I think that...I’ve always known.”

“Then,” he said, “you know that I have another form.” 

“Yes,” she replied, “I think that I do.”

He paused. “And what would you do, if I showed you my true form?” he asked her.

Kagome hummed, deep in thought. “Why don’t you show me your true form,” she said simply, “and I will show you what I think?”

Kōga sighed, and nodded. “Okay,” he said softly, “okay. Stand back.” 

Kagome did as he requested; she took a few steps back, staying by the fire to keep warm. Kōga let out a howl and dropped to all fours. The wolves outside howled in return; Kagome could feel the air crackling with youki as she waited with baited breath for what was to come next.

Kōga’s back sprouted black hair; it started at the spine and radiated outward, covering the whole of his back. It spread over his buttocks, down his legs, to his feet. It spread over his shoulders, down his arms, to his hands. His long, beautiful dark hair shortened into a soft dark fur that surrounded his face. His nose and jawline elongated, creating a wolf’s face. His hands and feet became paws; he sprouted a tail. When the transformation was complete, he barked, once, and the wolves outside barked once, in return, then thumped their tails against the snow.

Kōga turned to Kagome, who stood, watching the entire transformation take place, her eyes widening at what she saw. Her beautiful huntsman...was an even more beautiful wolf. She saw him plainly there; she saw his dark fur, his strong, muscled body, and above all, his piercing blue eyes.

Nothing had changed. This was still Kōga. _Her_ Kōga.

Kagome stepped towards the massive wolf, who now sat on his haunches and watched her with interest. Kagome moved forward slowly, until she was directly in front of him. He turned his face down towards hers; she rewarded him with a gentle kiss on his nose, and then another where his lips would be. She pressed herself into his great, furry chest, and was pleasantly surprised to feel how soft he was. She buried her hands in his hair and nestled in, taking deep inhales of his musky, woodsy scent. 

“Kōga,” she whispered, “ _mine_.”

And Kōga nuzzled her back, then nudged her away with his nose. When she looked at him, confused, he padded over to the futon and laid down on his side, looking up at her expectantly with his bright, pleading eyes. Kagome smiled and followed him, laying down with him on the futon, pulling the blankets up over them both. Kōga gently settled her in his arms, where she would be warm, and safe. She kissed him again, softly, languidly, then snuggled in deep.

As the wolves howled again outside, keeping careful watch over their prince and his mate, inside the hut lay Kōga and Kagome, his great, black, furry form dwarfing her, protecting her, keeping her safe.

And Kagome?

She lay, sleeping peacefully, between the great black paws of the mighty wolf: the wolf prince, her mate, her love. 


End file.
